


The Art of War

by Quipstaff



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bad Parenting, Battle, Canonical Character Death, Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls, Family Drama, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Gayngst, Heteronormativity, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Not As Grimdark As The Tags Make It Seem, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Slight Canon Divergence, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), controlling parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21987763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quipstaff/pseuds/Quipstaff
Summary: Things are a bit messy in the friendship between Lorenz and Ignatz, especially during the war, which makes it all the more mortifying when Ignatz realizes just how much he's into Lorenz's new look. Meanwhile the noble develops feelings he doesn't want to have.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	1. Shot In the Shoulder And You're To Blame

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked Ignatz and Lorenz's C and B supports and wanted to figure out what their A support would look like. Then I figured I'd also touch on what was brought up during Raphael and Ignatz's paralogue. THEN I thought setting it in the Azure Moon/Blue Lions route (mostly war-phase, but I skim through some stuff pre-timeskip in the beginning) would be very dramatic (I apologize in advance for how I decided to increase the drama even more from there), even if it does start to derail from canon after Myrddin. It got a bit out of hand.
> 
> A clarification on the tags re homophobia/heteronormativity: I chose to deal with those issues rather than have this fic be more on the escapism side of things because I felt it was difficult to avoid with Lorenz. The game seems to treat same gender relationships as a relative non-issue socially while a lot of the worldbuilding also seems to assume hetrosexuality as the default. I go with the idea that while the commoners in general are pretty chill, most of the heteronormativity and homophobia comes from within noble families, since they're so obsessed with bloodlines and Crests. If that's the case then the nobility's homophobia is also tied up in gender/sex essentialism as well, but since I've gone with both Lorenz and Ignatz being cis for this, I don't know how much I'll be addressing that directly. 
> 
> Serious note aside, while I love The Drama, I hope to eventually have a happy ending. Also normally I write fluff so we'll see how this goes.

Lorenz wanted the best education he could get out of the Academy, and it became clear that the new professor was how he could get it. For the good of the Alliance, he would have to leave the Alliance's house. Lysithea had already switched classes, and Lorenz became the second. He was determined not to be the second of anything for very long. 

To his surprise, Ignatz was the third Golden Deer to join the Blue Lions. Lysithea and himself were ambitious and forward-driven, but the best word he could think of for Ignatz was _meek_. 

Still, something about his classmate intrigued him, and it became clear that he had an artistic eye second to none. Including Lorenz. Second again already, it seemed. But he didn't mind so much. As time went on, and a couple of enlightening conversations over tea, Lorenz decided that he quite liked the commoner and he envisioned taking him on into his service in the future. Ignatz was less certain, but perhaps he would come around. 

The first ripple of doubt came the day that the Professor, Ignatz and Raphael of all people were going on a mission. They asked for volunteers to come, since it wasn't part of class. When Lorenz heard where they were going and why, he joined them immediately. 

Monsters were attacking merchants that dealt with House Riegan. Lorenz was no fool. He recognized the hand of his father when he saw it. But the plausible deniability of Count Gloucester's theoretical involvement meant a very convenient shield for Lorenz. If his father wouldn't take credit for it, then therefore Lorenz wasn't _defying_ his father when he helped the others put a stop to this. His father would know that he knew, that was a given, but he wouldn't be able to reprimand Lorenz without implicating himself. It was all very simple, really.

After the matter was done with, he spotted one of the merchants having a conversation with Raphael, Ignatz and the professor. Lorenz was cleaning up the mess of battle, as was his duty. But there was a moment, from the corner of his eye, that he noticed Ignatz distinctly looked over at him. 

He had a feeling he knew exactly who they were discussing.

Ignatz did not bring it up later, and he treated Lorenz the same, but it hung in the air between them as the year went on, even as they got more friendly.

He looked forward to graduating and entering the wide world beyond, even if he hadn't quite accomplished everything he had set out to do as quickly as he hoped. 

War broke out. Everything changed in the blink of an eye. 

During the battle at Garreg Mach, as everything crumbled around them, Ignatz and Lorenz ended up fighting back to back. They were exposed on the field outside the monastery, but between Ignatz shooting any imperial soldiers that got close from his side, and Lorenz blasting the ones on his side with magic, not one got within five feet of them. 

It was exhilarating, terrifying and exhausting. But there was something comforting about knowing that Ignatz literally had his back covered. They were a good team. 

Unfortunately, despite how well they were personally fighting, the battle was clearly lost. Exhausted, dirty, desperate and sweaty, Lorenz didn't feel like much of a noble. 

"I think it may be wise to retreat."

Ignatz shot another arrow. "Yes… I… I think you're right." 

They fled. The monastery was in shambles and crawling with the enemy, and it was impossible to tell what had happened to any of their allies. Without saying anything, both of them went in the direction of the Alliance. 

There was only so far they could travel in one day when they could barely stand on their feet, so they begged the hospitality of one of the farms they passed, in that ambiguous territory between Garreg Mach and the Alliance. The farmer took pity on them, but had no beds to spare. It turned out that she was already hosting some civilian refugees who had fled. She offered to put Ignatz in the barn loft, and one of the refugees could be moved there too so that the noble could sleep in the house. 

"No need," said Lorenz, "I shall sleep in the barn as well. Then if Imperial soldiers come calling, we can claim we were there without your permission and spare you any punishment for hosting their enemy."

Ignatz gave him an appraising look, and as they headed towards the barn, he said, "That was very kind of you, Lorenz."

"It was nothing. I would have been unable to sleep had I known I had been neglect in my duties as a noble."

Ignatz shook his head. His voice was soft. "You always say that you do things because you're a noble, while acting with more kindness than the rest of the nobles combined."

"You'll make me blush."

"You're amazing, Lorenz."

He really did blush at that. "Truly, it's nothing."

They climbed into the loft and at the moment, falling back into that itchy, stiff hay was as welcome as a feather bed. Lorenz watched Ignatz settle in. 

"Ignatz, it may be some time before you're officially knighted, but please - come into my service. I have made that offer to you before, but now…" He realized he trusted Ignatz, and he desperately wanted someone to trust at his side. "I know you would be an irreplaceable asset."

Ignatz's cheeks went red - the boy didn't seem to know what to do with compliments - but he looked away. "I… I can't. I can't, I'm sorry."

Lorenz was blindsided by that. He had expected Ignatz to once again give an ambiguous answer if he did not accept. Outright rejection hadn't occurred to him.

"Why not? If there's anything I can do to -" 

Ignatz was already shaking his head. "It's not about you. It's about your father."

He hadn't expected that response, but it didn't surprise him either. He sighed. "What did he do?" 

"Do you remember how I grew up with Raphael?" 

Lorenz nodded. 

Ignatz explained about how Raphael's parents died at the hands of monsters, and the suspicion that Count Gloucester was responsible. He sounded so tired and sad. 

Anger flooded Lorenz's veins. Not towards Ignatz, how could he ever be angry towards sweet, sincere, anxious Ignatz? No, his fury was directed towards his father. But there was little he could do. He tried to keep it out of his voice. "I cannot even begin to apologize, Ignatz. If I had known -"

"But you didn't know." Ignatz sighed. "Raphael insisted it was an accident with no one to blame. And even if the Count was responsible, that it had nothing to do with you." 

He paused. Lorenz waited patiently for him to continue, trying to keep calm.

Ignatz's voice had been wavering the whole time; Lorenz was sure that this conversation was taking a fair amount of courage from him. "Raphael is right. You're not to blame. But… I'm not as forgiving as he is. I can't in good conscience work for House Gloucester while your father is still the Count."

He had never heard Ignatz be so firm about something. But it made perfect sense. And it broke Lorenz's heart. There was nothing he could do to argue against it, as much as he wanted to.

"I understand completely. I will not ask you to. Nor will I ask you to wait for me to inherit. But by the time I do, know that if you are not in the service of another noble, my offer is still open. I… all I can do is try to be better than my father."

"You already are," said Ignatz, closing his eyes. "You don't know how much I wish I could accept."

They settled down to sleep, and Lorenz was feeling so many emotions at once he couldn't even begin to sort them out. 

After they parted ways in the morning, it would be five years before he spoke to Ignatz again.

* * *

Ignatz had no particular loyalty to Faerghus, but he had felt useless in the Alliance. Out of nostalgia, and maybe a bit of hope and a touch of faith, he had kept his part in the promise all of them had made to the professor and returned to Garreg Mach, where he was swept up in the war once again. The now-feral prince of Faerghus didn't inspire Ignatz to join the fight, but the professor did. Byleth convinced him that this little army could take on the Empire, and defend those that still followed the Goddess. That fight he could stand for. 

It was a bit lonely. Lysithea was there too, but the two of them had a strained relationship, though she had become less aggressive in the years since the Academy. Ingrid was friendly, and Flayn's company he enjoyed. The professor was kind. Still, Ignatz felt adrift. Raphael was still with the Alliance, and Lorenz… 

Lorenz had not kept the promise of a reunion. From what Ignatz understood, the Gloucesters had sided with the Empire. Thinking about that made it feel like there was a hole in Ignatz's stomach. He had liked Lorenz a lot, despite his father. He prayed to the Goddess that he would not face the son in battle. _Please, Goddess,_ he begged, _don't make him kill old friends._

Later he would think that he should have prayed harder.

As they were taking the Great Bridge of Myrddin (and after the surprise appearance of Dedue), another a familiar figure on a less familiar horse arrived. He had grown in the years since the academy, but it was him. It was Lorenz. And he was with the enemy.

"Ignatz." The professor, whose hands were full fighting off a demonic beast, had spotted him too. "Do you think you can convince him to switch sides?" 

Ignatz bit his lip. "I… I'm not sure. It's been a while."

"You might have to fight him."

He paused, looking over the battlefield, remembering how things used to be. He wasn't sure if he was the best one to get Lorenz to join Faerghus's army - one of the ladies could, perhaps, he thought cynically - but maybe he could at least convince him to retreat. 

He nodded. "I'll try."

He broke off from the rest, with some soldiers and to his relief, Mercedes, who was covering him. They worked across the bridge along the edges, firing shots and avoiding the middle of the fray. 

When he was close enough he called out to Lorenz - too close for an archer, really, but he needed his voice to be heard. "Lorenz!" 

"Ignatz? So this is how we've ended up." He looked different now, particularly his hair and his armor, but Ignatz was a bit too stressed at the moment to really take it in.

"It doesn't have to be, Lorenz. We don't have to do this." Despite his words, his bow was raised. 

"But we must." Lorenz was holding his relic, Thyrsus, which was terrifying, but he hadn't immediately burnt Ignatz to a crisp, which was encouraging. 

"Do you really want to be allied with the Empire?" 

"My House is, and I must do my duty for my House. I don’t suppose you’re inclined to join me?"

“No, Lorenz, I’ve chosen to stand _against_ the Empire.”

“I understand. I’m sorry about this, truly.”

Lorenz acted first, raising Thyrsus. At the movement, Ignatz got ready and when the flames came for him he rolled out of the way, feeling the heat lick his back but remaining unscorched. With a practiced movement he came out of the roll and fired an arrow which pierced Lorenz's shoulder. He fired his next shot without even thinking, all his training and experience shouting at him to never let a mage get in another chance.

That arrow hit his target as well, and his scream echoed through Ignatz's ears. Without thinking, Ignatz dashed forward as Lorenz began to tip from his horse. He was close enough and fast enough that he caught him as he fell. Badly, admittedly, as they both tipped over, but he'd managed to prevent further damage.

"Lorenz! Oh Goddess, please, I'm so sorry, don't let him die, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" 

"Don't." Lorenz coughed. "You were only doing your duty as a soldier."

"I'm so sorry, Lorenz. Please, please give up. Don't make me have to…"

They weren't taking prisoners. They were allowing the enemy to flee if they tried to, but Lorenz was in no position to flee. His horse bucked and whined, and he was bleeding from two different wounds. Wounds Ignatz had put there.

Lorenz touched the arrow in his shoulder and winced. "What do you want me to do?" 

"Please, join us, if - if you join us, I can get Mercedes to heal you. You'll be fine. You'll live. Please, Lorenz. You can run away later, I don't care, but please don't die here."

"I was thinking that I did not want to be so ignoble as to beg for my life. But here you are begging for it for me." Lorenz groaned. "I have no loyalty towards the Empire, but my father insists -" 

"You are _not_ your father." That came out far more fiercely than Ignatz intended, but he stood by it. "His promises aren't worth honoring."

Lorenz was sweating from pain now. He closed his eyes. Just as Ignatz was wondering if that was it, Lorenz spoke again, softly. "I'll try to convince him. And… if I can't then, yes. I will go against his wishes."

Ignatz nodded, sniffing, and turned and shouted, "Mercedes!" 

She had been watching, waiting, and now she ran forward, the magic already at her fingertips. "Pull the arrows out of him and I'll do what I can."

Ignatz did so, using his archer training to keep his hands from trembling even if it was difficult to see with the tears on his glasses. 

It turned out they were not buried too deep, but after the healing worked it was a bit too much for the noble and he passed out. 

"He'll be fine, Ignatz. He just needs to sleep it off."

He nodded, fighting back more tears.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you." 

"Why are you thanking _me_?"

"Every time I think about facing our old classmates, it breaks my heart. I think you feel that way too, don't you?"

Ignatz wiped his eyes. "I… I almost killed him!" 

"And you will have to live with that. But you also gave him mercy. You saved him."

He still didn't think he deserved praise for not being as terrible a person as he could have been. "You did the hard part." 

She smiled sadly. "Yes. _We_ saved him. Why don't we try being proud of that?" 

Ignatz nodded, even as the guilt remained.

* * *

After they took the bridge, the professor nodded at Ignatz with a smile after finding out that Lorenz had defected. 

Life settled back into planning and strategy mode, and Lorenz was integrated into life at the monastery.

Ignatz hadn't checked on him at all. He was afraid to. He kept thinking about it, and of the Lorenz he used to know. What was he like now? Still, he refrained.

A couple of days later, he took some paper to the cathedral and sat down in a pew in front of the pile of rubble that marred that holy place. He drew the destruction with as much care as he drew anything else. 

He heard footsteps behind him, and Lorenz leaned over his shoulder to see what he was drawing. "Why this subject matter?" 

Ignatz jumped. He didn't know how to look at Lorenz, so he focused on his drawing, trying to smooth over the errant mark he had made in his surprise. "We've been trying to restore the monastery. When we finish, all that was done to it will be gone. I wanted to record it while it's still here. So that what happened wouldn't be forgotten, for better or worse."

Lorenz leaned closer, almost uncomfortably so. "It truly is amazing, that by your hand destruction is as beautiful as anything else."

Ignatz didn't know what to say to that, so instead he asked, "Why are you here?" 

"I came to pray."

Still looking nowhere but the page and his subject matter, Ignatz nodded. "I can come back later and leave you in peace."

"No need," said Lorenz, "I highly doubt the Goddess would find your presence an intrusion." He walked back around to stand in front of what was left of the altar and lowered his head.

The scrape of Ignatz’s charcoal against paper was one of the only sounds aside from their breathing. There was a draft, which was inevitable when there were holes in the walls. It whistled softly as it explored the space.

Ignatz thought about that night when the monastery was destroyed, and they slept in hay. How kind he had thought Lorenz had been. He had always been fond of him, and look at how he repaid him. With violence.

After a few minutes Lorenz finished praying, coming back and sitting by Ignatz. 

Ignatz hadn’t been looking at him directly, but he could see him out of the corner of his eye. "You're moving pretty well. Your wounds…?" 

"They're completely healed. They were clean shots, and Mercedes got to me quickly. She's very skilled, my skin is even free of scars."

That was a relief, but Ignatz still felt his gut twist. "I'm sorry, Lorenz." 

"I fully intended to kill you."

Ignatz froze, his drawing forgotten even as he stared down at it. "What?" 

"We were in battle, Ignatz. I was determined to do my part. If you had not dodged so swiftly I would have killed you. You were simply faster." There was no malice in Lorenz’s tone, but there _was_ a shade of shame.

"I… I guess so." Ignatz stopped drawing. He wasn't really looking at it anymore.

"To tell you the truth, this is all very embarrassing. But I'm alive to be embarrassed. And… I'm sincerely glad my spell missed you. It’s good to see you again outside battle, alive and well."

That caused something to melt inside Ignatz. He didn’t know what feeling was correct for this. Gratitude? Relief? Affection? Shame? He knew that he didn’t feel like he deserved this forgiveness. But after all that, the least he could do was bring himself to look at the man.

He raised his eyes. 

The light shone through the remains of stained glass and the gaps in walls. It caught Lorenz at just the right angle to have him lit softly from the side, almost to the point where he looked as if he glowed, with just enough contrast to be striking. And more than that - he had changed in five years. He had grown into his face. His hair cascaded down one side of his head, neatly combed into a very appealing asymmetry. His expression was soft and sad, the hint of a smile on his lips not matching the crease in his brows and the look in his eyes. 

The breath caught in Ignatz's throat. Lorenz was _gorgeous_. 

He reflexively burned the scene into his memory, the place where he stored such images that he could not draw immediately. He could hardly ask Lorenz to sit still and allow him to draw his portrait, especially in the middle of _this_ conversation. He felt guilty even having thoughts like that, given what he'd done.

"I'm… I'm glad you're here, Lorenz. I really am sorry for injuring you, but I'm so relieved that I didn't kill you."

Lorenz nodded, seemingly not noticing any change in Ignatz's demeanor. "Do you mind if I still call you my friend?"

This was an odd thing for him to say, Ignatz thought, considering Lorenz had been incredibly reluctant to call commoners friends before. Had he always considered them to be friends? Ignatz wondered how much he had changed in the years since. He hadn't even turned their conversation towards nobility once, either. 

"Of course," said Ignatz. "Of course we're friends."

Lorenz smiled again, but this one was less sad. Ignatz greedily noted all the small changes in his face that made this expression different, and put that into his memory too.

* * *

In his room that night, Ignatz drew sketch after sketch, pulling out his paints and trying to get the lighting down. None of his drawings or his paintings, no matter which medium he used - graphite or charcoal, watercolours or oils, none of it seemed to capture the image in his head. 

He put aside each attempt and tried anew. 

He tried to assuage the guilt that weighed down his insides by thinking that he could gift the portrait to Lorenz once he had finished. It didn't really work, because he knew he was actually being incredibly selfish.

It was so messed up, this obsession. But maybe if he poured his heart into it, he could show his gratitude that Lorenz didn't hate him, when he had every right to.

He stopped. He couldn't do this properly from memory. But maybe if he did ask Lorenz to pose for him, at a more appropriate moment than before. At least then Lorenz would have a choice in the matter. If the noble declined, he could accept that and put aside this _need_. That would be the end of that.

* * *

Lorenz was surprised but grateful by how readily the people at Garreg Mach accepted him into their ranks, the prince aside. He supposed it was because he was from the Alliance and not the Empire. Then again, Dorothea and Ferdinand were from the Empire and didn't appear to have many problems. The former songstress was a commoner, so perhaps that helped, and Ferdinand he supposed had been openly in rivalry with Edelgard for so long it simply made sense for him to be there. 

As for Lorenz, he wished to ensure no doubts remained, even if they were unvoiced, about his former allegiance. He started with Mercedes, who he felt he owed somewhat, and once he specified why he was asking her to tea (and definitely not asking her in a romantic sense) she graciously accepted. He put forth the best brew he'd managed to acquire since his arrival.

"You've changed," she remarked. 

"Have I?" 

Mercedes nodded. "You look me in the eyes now. And I've heard that you haven't made made any marriage proposals."

He winced a little. "A war is hardly the time or place to think of marriage. I've put that aside for now. And… I realized that perhaps my views towards commoners could be more flexible."

She smiled. "Well, you were saved by two of them."

"Rest assured, I'm very thankful. Between you and the professor, I'm beginning to think that I had some unseemly prejudices."

"That's one way to put it." Mercedes had the remarkable ability to speak so sweetly and serenely while making one incredibly ashamed of their behaviour. 

Lorenz took a sip of tea so his lack of response wouldn't be impolite. 

"But you still intend to marry?" 

"Of course. I need a bride to benefit House Gloucester, but I have become more open to the idea of expanding who I find suitable. Social status is no longer an issue I intend to take into account."

Mercedes hummed. "I wonder if maybe your definition of _suitable_ is still too narrow."

Lorenz blinked. "...What else could there be?" 

"Never mind, it was just a thought. You said you weren't going to think of it with the war going on so maybe there's still time."

Their chat turned to other things and soon they ended their tea on friendlier terms than before. Satisfied, Lorenz went on a walk, though some of what she said still echoed in his mind. 

He spotted a familiar figure in the gardens, painting a rose blooming there. He came over to look at the delicate oil painting and sighed in delight. 

"I do so love roses, and you've captured it perfectly." 

Ignatz looked up from his painting and smiled at him. "Thank you."

Lorenz was extremely gratified that Ignatz could look him in the eye again. He had been wondering if his nervous friend would carry the weight of what he’d done forever. 

As for Lorenz, he had forcefully bulldozed his own feelings about the matter, steadfastly refusing to hold a grudge. He even intended to watch Ignatz train, so he would not fear the sight of him with a bow. That could be costly in the middle of battle. He would make the effort to bury the memory of the pain, but that was a burden he was willing to bear. Forgiveness helped. Not a forced forgiveness, but choosing to forgive on his own terms made the weight of the burden so much less.

"It's really lovely."

Ignatz looked between Lorenz and the painting a moment. "Do you want it? It'll take a couple of days for the oils to dry, but you can have it after that. I'm just about finished."

Lorenz's heart was warmed. "Are you certain? You've put so much effort into it."

Ignatz shook his head. "It was just practice. And I only started drawing to make people happy. If it makes you happy, that's all I want."

A wide smile spread across Lorenz's face. "Then I accept, thank you," he said with sincere fondness. 

Ignatz ducked his head and smiled too, adding a couple more strokes to the background before signing it. Suddenly he hesitated, and Lorenz recognized that he was nervous about something. 

"Is there something the matter? If you would keep it for yourself after all, I would not be offended."

"Oh no, this is yours now. I was, um, I was actually wondering if… uh…"

"What is it? If there's anything at all that I can do for you, don't hesitate to let me know."

Ignatz gave him a wavering smile and adjusted his glasses. "Most of what I've been drawing lately have been objects or plants, sometimes landscapes. I, uh, I wanted to get some more practice of drawing people so I was wondering if maybe you…" 

Lorenz was absolutely delighted, too excited by the idea to let Ignatz, who would meander around the point, finish. "You wish to have me sit for a portrait?" 

"Yes, but only if you want to." 

"Oh, it would be an absolute honor. I would adore a painting of myself as done by the great artist, Ignatz. I'm sure I will make the most fetching model, if I can be immodest for a second."

That made Ignatz laugh and though Lorenz had not intended it to be a joke, Ignatz's laugh was so charming he couldn’t help but be moved. 

"I'm sure you will," said Ignatz. "Let me know when you're free - I have cooking duty so it can't be tonight but, please, whenever you aren't busy."

Lorenz nodded. "I don't believe my schedule is particularly full. You said it will take a couple of days for this rose to dry? Perhaps then could be a good time."

"That sounds good," agreed Ignatz, and so it was settled. 

Ignatz headed off to kitchen duty and Lorenz walked off, feeling like he was walking on air. 

He was so caught up in his mind that he wasn't fully paying attention, and as he turned the corners of the garden in the direction of the stables, he literally ran into Dorothea. 

"I beg your pardon!" 

Dorothea brushed off her dress. "It's quite alright."

"I haven't hurt you, have I?" 

"Don't be silly, it was just a little bump." She eyed him. "You don't seem particularly sorry."

"I am, I assure you! I am just in such an excellent mood that I'm unable to make my demeanor more sorrowful. I really am glad you're alright."

"No need to lay it on so thick," she said in a dry tone. "What's got you with your head in the clouds?"

" _Well_ , I was just speaking to Ignatz -" 

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Were you now?" 

He didn't get what she meant by that tone, so he plowed on, explaining what had just transpired.

"That's very nice of him. Perhaps I should do him a favor and offer my services as a model after you're done."

"I'm sure he would appreciate that! Your beauty would make for an excellent subject matter."

She blew out a little threw her nose. "Please don't use this as an opportunity to flirt with me."

"The thought hadn't even crossed my mind," said Lorenz, honestly. 

"That'd be a first. But you're really happy about this, aren't you?" 

"Of course!" 

She giggled. "You must be very taken by yourself." 

"Are you teasing me?" 

"A little."

He waved it away. "I've worked hard on my appearance, as I'm sure you have with yours. Is it wrong to like it when my efforts are noticed? Why must my attempts to look good be a matter of ridicule while yours are not?" 

She paused, considering that. "You have a point. It wasn't what I _meant_ , but very well, I apologize. But you do realize that those efforts of yours are being noticed by _Ignatz_?" 

"Yes? He has quite an eye for beauty, why would that be a problem?" 

"Oh, no, I know. I just meant that you put all that effort into your looks for the sake of fetching a bride, right?" 

Lorenz paused. "Just what are you getting at?" 

Dorothea tapped the side of her face. "It's just, I would be _happy_ to wed anyone who loved me, regardless of gender. I don't care about that. But you, not only are you a nobel but you're _Sir_ Won't Shut Up About Nobility. And they're not exactly super into couplings that can't make more nobles. Ignatz isn't exactly the kind of bug you're trying to attract to your flower, is he?"

Lorenz opened and closed his mouth, feeling as if she had both seen right through him and also seen something he hadn't even noticed. Finally he managed to splurt out, quite inelegantly, "Artistically! He appreciates my appearance with the platonic eye of an artist."

"I'm teasing you again, I'm sorry."

"Of course," said Lorenz, his heart racing like a prize stallion. "I should have guessed."

"I'm right, though, aren't I? You wouldn't consider a man to be an option?" 

He could feel his cheeks growing red. "It would be very unlikely to be a suitable match."

"Love isn't always suitable." What was that tone of voice? Was it pity? 

He felt extremely unsettled by this conversation. "True, but…" 

What could he say? She had pinged on something that he hadn't wanted to admit to himself. He didn't need to tell her. She would be sure to stop with this line of questioning if he firmly asked her to, or he could simply deny everything. But there was something there, something that he had been dancing around for so long he didn't even notice he was doing it. If he didn't address it now, to someone who might actually understand, would he ever?

"When I get inclinations in that direction," he said, more hesitant than he ever was normally, "I automatically make sure to ignore them. I cannot allow myself to entertain the notion. I could lose everything I’ve worked for." He swallowed.

"Oh, _Lorenz_." It was a look of empathy rather than pity, at least. 

"It's what must be done. I envy your freedom of choice, Dorothea, but I don't resent doing my duty."

"Maybe you should," said Dorothea, but she sighed. "Or maybe your devotion to your noble obligations helps you cope. I can't judge _you_ for that. I'm sorry for opening such a wound."

"It's something of a relief to admit, actually," said Lorenz. It really did feel like a weight had been lifted, even if his hands were shaking. "But I’ve told you this in confidence. Please don't mention it to _anyone_."

"I'm not going to break your trust in me, Lorenz. Don't worry."

"Thank you." He coughed, a bit embarrassed. "Now I really should be going."

"Right. And Lorenz? If you ever need someone to talk to about this, I can always lend my ear."

He nodded, throat feeling thick. 

He left, going to check on his horse, very determinedly avoiding thinking about Ignatz. A commoner, though that mattered less than the fact that he was a man. Their relationship was strictly platonic friendship, perhaps artist and model, maybe in the far off future a Count and his knight. But those were the only options he would consider. The only ones he could consider.


	2. Speak With Confidants

Ignatz lifted the small canvas, checking it carefully. The paint had dried, at least to the touch. Normally he used watercolors, which dried much, much faster, but recently he'd been playing with oil paints. They were better for things that required a lot of layers and the slow drying time also meant it could be reworked for longer. Sometimes it was good to go slowly. He had decided to use oils for Lorenz's portrait. Now that the noble had agreed to sit for him, Ignatz was feeling better about the whole thing. 

He needed to tell Lorenz the rose painting was ready, and then they could move on to the portrait, but just in case Ignatz checked his supplies and realized he had very few purple or violet pigments. Trying to make purple by mixing blue and red was very difficult, often resulting in something more brown. But purples were also very expensive. He'd have to go to the market and hope he could strike a bargain. Maybe he could seek out Ashe and have him help, as he was the best at haggling, but Ignatz didn't feel like bothering him for something so trivial. Plus, Ignatz himself was the son of merchants, he was probably the second best at it anyway. 

He went down to the marketplace, carefully trying to find what he was looking for. 

"Ignatz, hi." 

He looked up from some lapis lazuli - not the right color, too blue - and there was Ingrid. He nodded to her. "Ingrid, hello!"

"Looking for something?" 

"Ah, just some pigments. How about you?" 

They spoke about books for a bit, what she had come for, until they were joined by a third arrival. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" 

"Sylvain," said Ingrid, somehow managing to put years of backstory into how she pronounced that one name.

"Hello, Sylvain," said Ignatz. They didn't usually speak all that much, which Ignatz assumed was because he wasn't a woman. 

"What're you two doing, buzzing together like bees?" 

"I needed something new to read," said Ingrid, "I just happened to run into Ignatz." There was a warning in her voice. 

"I'm looking for pigments. Purple, actually, even if it’s a touch pricey."

"Purple? What do you need purple for? Red's a much better color, don't you think?" Sylvain ran a hand through his hair. "I bet it’s cheaper, too."

"It is, but I'm painting Lorenz," said Ignatz, trying to sound casual. At least that was self explanatory.

"Ugh, Lorenz? Oh, hey, didn't you shoot him?" 

Ingrid elbowed him. " _Sylvain_."

"Ouch, what?" 

"It's… I'm thinking of it as something of an apology for… that." Which meant that Ignatz couldn't keep it and would have to give it away, which made it less selfish. He hoped.

"Man, I was gonna ask you to do one of me but I think your prices are a bit steep. I like my flesh as is, thank you."

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "Why do you want a portrait anyway?" 

"It'll be a gift from me to all the ladies in the world." He winked at Ingrid. "I'll put it up somewhere nice and public."

She put a hand on her hip. "You just want one because Lorenz is getting one, don't you?" 

"Well, that too."

As they bickered, Ignatz went back to trying to choose pigments. He wasn't sure how to insert himself back into the conversation, if he even wanted to.

Ignatz found what he was looking for and caught the attention of the merchant. "Excuse me, how much is this?"

She told him the price, which was about what he expected, but he heard a slow whistle behind his back from Sylvain. 

"Yikes, no wonder it takes a couple of arrows to get a painting."

"Can you afford that, Ignatz?" asked Ingrid softly. "I'd help, but…" 

"No, it's fine. It _is_ a bit too much for me, but I might be able to find something else at one of the other stalls..."

"Now hold on," said the merchant. 

They started bargaining. Partway through, Sylvain cleared his throat and thrust over some gold. "Just give him the stuff, oh gorgeous queen of merchants."

Ignatz blinked in surprise. "You don't have to -" 

"And pick up some of that red stuff there, too."

"Alright, coming right up." 

The purchases were wrapped up and given to Sylvain, who pushed them into Ignatz's hands. "I was being serious about the portrait, by the way. Hopefully this'll keep me scar-free."

Ignatz took the supplies, realizing that a trade had just been negotiated. "Yes, I... I guess I can do that for you. Thank you, Sylvain."

They discussed when he'd be free to sit for it, as Ingrid looked almost impressed. The three of them parted ways shortly after that, and Ignatz had everything he needed to paint Lorenz.

* * *

"Are you certain you wish to paint it in here?" 

Ignatz and Lorenz were in the cathedral, and aside from a glimpse of a long blue fur-lined cape that had disappeared around a corner, they were alone. 

"I like the lighting in here. I asked Seteth if it was alright, and he said that since I could hardly make the place more of a mess, it was fine. He said the Goddess appreciates art." Ignatz wondered if the Goddess was also fine with obsessing just as much over painting a mortal as he had been with painting her. 

"Very well. I see that you brought cushions as well."

"We might be here a while, and the pews aren't that comfortable."

"You've thought of everything. I've sat for portraits before, I'm sure I can be still."

Ignatz got him to position himself just right. It was a different day at a different time, so the lighting was different than the moment he wished he could have captured. But he wouldn't be getting to the lighting stage in the painting this session, not if he wanted to take his time. He'd already warned Lorenz it might take a few sessions; maybe one of the later ones might have that magical look. 

He got to work. Ignatz concentrated on the painting and Lorenz concentrated on being quiet. It was nice. They didn't need to talk. It was peaceful being in Lorenz's presence, and the noble was very patient. His expression was different than it had been, but Ignatz didn't dislike the soft smile either. It was odd having it directed at him the whole time though, due to the nature of the pose. He wondered it Lorenz minded having to spend the entire time staring at him.

He got the basics of the portrait and the flat colors down before he called it a day. "Thank you so much for your time."

Lorenz stretched like a cat, long limbs pushing his hands towards the ceiling above, his head tilted back and his back curved. Ignatz itched to draw that pose too. Every movement seemed to be full of grace, every angle was beautiful. He did have some paper with him that he'd been using to test colors before putting them on canvas, and he briefly sketched the bare basics of the pose to replicate later. He hid the sketch by the time Lorenz turned back around. 

"It seems odd to say this, but posing does take a lot out of a person. I'm feeling quite peckish. Perhaps I'll head to the dining hall - would you care to join me?" 

"Oh! Yes, I would like that."

They walked back together. Ignatz held his painting very carefully, as the paint was still drying, with the cushions under his elbows.

He enjoyed talking to Lorenz. That was part of the problem. If the man had a different personality or been an awful person, his aesthetic would never be good enough for Ignatz to want to actually spend time with him. Sure, he could be a bit stuck up and his tendency to make it sound like commoners and nobles were different species was annoying at best, but Ignatz believed he had a good heart. It was exceedingly unfair that he could be so good looking _and_ charming _and_ a rich, unobtainable noble. He may as well have been still mooning over the goddess, for all Lorenz was reachable. No, Ignatz would have to be content with things as they were. Really, he was lucky.

"Let me just drop off my supplies and the painting at my room, then I'll meet you at the dining hall."

"I'll get us something to eat in the meantime?" 

It was agreed upon, and Ignatz tried to hurry while also being careful. Despite his best efforts, by the time he made it back to the dining hall it had been several minutes. 

When he got there, Lorenz was speaking to Mercedes and Annette. Ignatz paused. Lorenz hadn't spotted him yet, and he did not want to interrupt their conversation. 

"- yes, I remember! I don't believe we spoke to each other much back then. A missed opportunity. How rude of me not to notice such beautiful and elegant flowers such as yourselves blooming right in front of my nose."

Annette shook her head. " _Blooming_? I suppose. That was so long ago now, I was so young."

"You're right. You are both full blossoms now, grown into exquisite specimens."

Annette giggled. "I don't know if being called a 'specimen' is as nice as you think it is, Lorenz. Besides, I feel weird being told that by someone who is way prettier than I'll ever be."

"Don't say that, Annie," said Mercedes, linking her arm around her companion's. " _I_ think you're much prettier."

Ignatz felt odd. Strangely distant from himself but at the same time increasingly aware of how gawky and awkward he was, and how while he could try to create beautiful things he'd always be plain compared to people like this. He would always be second best, a square peg trying to fit in a round hole. He should just leave them to it, but Lorenz was holding two plates, one surely meant for him. If Ignatz left now, that would be a waste of food. Equally torn between wanting to leave and feeling obligated to stay, he didn't know what to do. 

"Ignatz? Was there something you wanted?" Mercedes's voice broke through his thoughts. 

Lorenz turned around. "Oh, Ignatz, you arrived! How terribly rude of me, I should have noticed. Ladies, if you'll excuse me, we had prior arrangements."

Annette clapped her hands. "Maybe we could all eat together, wouldn't that be nice?" 

"I would have no objections," said Lorenz, "Ignatz?" 

There was absolutely not an ounce of Ignatz willing to say what he actually wanted to do at that moment. "Oh, yes, that's fine. I mean, um, that _would_ be nice."

"Excellent," Mercedes said, approvingly. "Maybe Ignatz can keep Lorenz in check."

Lorenz frowned at her. "What's that supposed to mean…?" 

They sat down to eat. Ignatz felt very out of place. If they _were_ flowers, Lorenz was like a rose: elegant, refined and highly cultivated. Mercedes was like a daylily: beautiful, comforting and capable of growing anywhere, and perfect for an arrangement placed on an altar in a church. Annette was like a sunflower: bright, the kind of flower that makes you smile when you see one, and brightens your day as it reaches for the sun. Compared to them, Ignatz felt like a clover. Barely more than a weed. He picked at his meal. 

"Ignatz, you're being awfully quiet. Is something wrong?" Mercedes was gentle as she drew attention to him. 

"Oh, no, I'm fine, I'm just not sure what I can contribute to the conversation."

"Nonsense," said Lorenz, "you're more than capable of making engaging conversation."

Ignatz blushed a little but shook his head. "Thank you, but I think I'm more of the quiet type."

"There's nothing wrong with being quiet, either," said Lorenz, "In fact, sometimes it's refreshing to have a quiet dining partner."

Not when they were surrounded by more talkative people and blending into the background, Ignatz bet. He missed a bit of the conversation again, gloomy in his head. 

"You can learn a lot about something by eating with them," said Annette. 

"You know, Raphael made the same point to me, once," said Lorenz, "I do hope he's doing well. Ignatz, have you heard from him at all?" 

Ignatz's brows knit together. "I think so, we were keeping in contact until I came back here. I sent him a letter asking if he wanted to join us, but he didn't want to leave his sister. And since we've engaged the Empire, letters have had a hard time getting through…" 

This was no good. He finally said something and ended it with a downer. The mood at the table got a few degrees more somber, and it was all his fault. 

"Perhaps I can help. My father is… well, he's become neutral. He neither openly approves of my being here, but he isn't allying himself as closely to the Empire as he once did. I wish he would take more of a stand, but." He sniffed. "Regardless, it may be easier to get a message through by going through him." His tone dropped a few degrees. "Certainly he owes Raphael and his family far more than that."

Annette and Mercedes asked for clarification, but Ignatz was strongly reminded of that night long ago when he had told Lorenz about what had happened to Raphael's parents and who was to blame. It bothered him that Lorenz so clearly still cared about his father's wishes, but he couldn't blame him. It wasn't as if Ignatz had the courage to even try to convince his own father that he was wrong about anything, let alone a war.

"No, it's not a matter I should have brought up in company," Lorenz was saying. "If I may be so gauche as to change the subject so obviously, Ignatz, tell them about the delightful portrait you're doing of me."

Coaxed back into the conversation again, Ignatz hesitantly explained what he was doing. Once he got going, he ended up becoming more enthusiastic, ending up lovingly detailing how he hoped to catch the right light in a later session.

"Oh yes, the light in the cathedral is very lovely," and Mercedes. "Don't you just love it in the late evenings when it's so soft and dreamy?" 

"Yes! Or in the morning, as the sun is rising," pitched in Annette.

The four of them moved from that to how nice the Cathedral was in general, and then the best views in the monastery in general. Ignatz ended up getting engaged in talk without even realizing it. The conversation got lively. Afterward, Ignatz found his spirits had picked up a bit. As they parted ways, the two women headed off and Ignatz and Lorenz walked out into the gardens. 

Lorenz pulled him aside. "Are you alright? You looked rather down for most of the meal."

"I'm fine, I think I was just being foolish."

"How so?" 

Ignatz hesitated, but since Lorenz was listening so patiently he said, "This is a bit silly, but I was thinking, um, that you three are like beautiful garden flowers and I'm like a patch of clover."

Lorenz tutted. "Oh, but have you seen a field of wild clovers? You are an expert in beauty, surely you know how wonderful a sight that is."

Ignatz felt his cheeks warm. "Maybe I should have used another example. Like thistle."

"They're actually quite nice, though I hardly think you're as prickly as all that."

Ignatz adjusted his glasses, thinking. "Dandelions?" 

"Are highly underrated. Haven't you ever been brightened by the first sight of dandelions in the spring?" 

Ignatz shook his head. "You're right. I can't think of a single flower that isn't pretty in its own way."

"That's right," said Lorenz, smiling. "You shouldn't compare your petals to others, you're perfectly - -" He cleared his throat. "You're perfectly fine as you are."

"You've always been so kind to me, Lorenz," said Ignatz, shaking his head, but he looked up and smiled back. "I'm grateful to know you."

* * *

Dorothea was leaning on the side of the bridge between the cathedral and the monastery when Lorenz found her. 

"Dorothea, do you have a moment?"

She turned around, tilting her head with curiosity. "Luckily for you, I do. What's the matter?" 

Lorenz didn't know where to begin, and considered not starting at all. But since he'd already sought her out and interrupted her reverie, it would be rude to leave her without saying _something._ "I have a problem."

"If your problem is that I'm too beautiful to handle, it'll continue to be a problem."

"Please don't tease me, Dorothea, I'm serious."

She held up her hands in appeasement. "Alright, I take it back. You do sound flustered. What's wrong?" 

"Do you…" He swallowed. How unusual for him to have nerves like this. "Do you remember our last conversation? When I said I, ah, ignore certain feelings I may have for, uh, people who are…" 

"Men?" Dorothea offered, not unkindly. 

"Yes. That." He couldn't just leave it there. "I've… recently I've found it more difficult to… I haven't been able to…" Trying to find the right words was difficult. 

"Is it someone in particular or in general?" Dorothea prompted. She was being downright gentle with it, too.

Lorenz joined her in leaning over the bridge, looking at the view rather than meet her eyes. Be calm. Dignified. "Someone in particular."

"And you think this is a problem?" 

"You know why it's a problem." That, at least, he was steadfast on. She may be critical of the nobility, but he knew she understood what they were like. "If I were a second child or didn't have a Crest, maybe it would be different. But I am the heir to House Gloucester - I can't even entertain the… the _fantasy_ that he may even remotely be worth my attention."

She leaned on the wall next to him. "Maybe if you all cared less about bloodlines or passing on Crests, you nobles wouldn't cause yourself unnecessary pain."

Lorenz bristled, but the hard part was that he couldn't bring himself to argue the point. He felt like he should defend the position of the nobility, but the fact of the matter was that he _was_ hurting himself. "It is the way things are. If it's causing me pain, then it is pain that I have to bear. I must find myself someone capable of giving me a child."

"You know you don't _have_ to. You could renounce your noble status, or even marry him anyway and if he's _incapable_ of being the breeder you seem to want, this war's left plenty of orphans." With a somewhat scathing tone she added, "One of them might even have a Crest."

Lorenz pushed himself away from the side of the bridge, nose wrinkling. "'Breeder'? That's an awful sort of word."

"Yes. It is." Her gaze was steady. "The way you people talk about it - while you're better than most, it does leave an unpleasant taste in your mouth, doesn't it? That's what you sound like." 

Lorenz was at a loss for words. He had to admit, though, this was why he had gone to Dorothea, aside from their previous conversation. Anyone else might try to be more tactful, it was true, but right now he wanted someone to knock some sense into him. He just wished she was knocking some sense into him about getting over himself and letting go of these feelings.

"I… you're right. It is unpleasant. I don't want to think about people that way, as if they were prize horses. I'll try to be better than that."

She softened. "I know you don't mean to, but you should think about what you're implying when you speak."

He nodded, chastened. "But, ah, saying that I want to marry him -" Lorenz went a bit pink at the thought. "- that's getting a little ahead of ourselves. At this point I merely know that I've been… let's say mildly infatuated. That's hardly a basis to question my life's goals over."

"Mildly infatuated, huh?" Her mouth twitched. "Do you mind if I ask what you've been feeling?" 

He went back to looking at the view, thinking about it. "We've been spending more time together recently. When he smiles, it is so sweet it touches your heart. He's gentle and quiet but when you get him speaking about a subject he enjoys his enthusiasm is delightful. His sensibilities match my own but without any of my ego." That moment of self-awareness prompted a small laugh from Dorothea. "But that means he finds it difficult to see the value in himself. He cares about others more than himself and that blinds him to his own strengths. He can't even see how good he is, and all that makes me want to do is make him see himself the way that I see him. Thoughtful and talented, and so sensitive."

Dorothea rested her cheek in her hand. "Be glad I'm not Manuela. If she heard you talking like that she'd be melodramatic about how _she_ wished someone could love her like that for a whole month."

Lorenz flushed. "I'm not - I insist, it's not love, just a little fixation."

She gave him a look. "Uh huh. Because to me it sounds like you got it bad."

His mouth wavered. "What makes you so certain?" 

"Trust me. People with a little crush say stuff like 'they're so cute!' or 'they're so pretty and nice!'. Well, knowing you, you'd probably say something along the lines of them being 'a delicate flower blooming with a gentle fragrance'. But you didn't sound as superficial as all that just now. And what you meant to say earlier - you haven't been able to ignore it like you have in the past, can you?" 

She had a point. He held up his head with his hands, elbows on the wall, and stifled a most unbecoming whine. "I do _have it bad_ , don't I?" 

She patted his shoulder sympathetically. "It's Ignatz, isn't it?" 

Somewhat mortified, he managed a "...Yes."

"Sorry, it was kind of easy to guess from the description. It's cute, though. Don't worry, I won't tell him."

Lorenz tried to collect himself, straightening. "Please don't. Don't tell him. Don't tell _anyone_. Not one single soul. I'm quite serious. I have no wish to be kidnapped home and forced into an arranged marriage." 

She frowned. "I won't, believe me. But even if it did come out, by the time it reached your father it would be nothing but a rumor, right? Would he really overreact like that?" 

"Maybe not if this were still the academy." Lorenz's manner was increasingly grim. "It could have been considered an indiscretion back then. But I switched sides without his permission during a _war_. It's not a secret that Ignatz had been the one to confront me that battle."

Comprehension dawned on Dorothea's face. "I'm guessing you're already on pretty thin ice over that. But if he found out about you and Ignatz…" She had always been savy. 

He nodded. "If my father even _thinks_ I defected over for a commoner with no status, one who he absolutely wouldn't accept as a son-in-law - hypothetically speaking - then yes, I am _certain_ I would no longer be considered capable of making my own decisions. I'm well aware of how long my leash is, and what may cause it to be yanked back."

She folded her hands in front of her, frowning. "You _do_ have a problem."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

* * *

"Ignatz! Hey! You there? I'm ready!" That was Sylvain, leaning in through his already open door.

Ignatz had left it open for air ventilation, but he expected Sylvain's arrival as well. He barely gave him a glance from what he was doing. "I'm so sorry, Sylvain, the Professor wanted my help with something earlier and I didn't have time to prepare the paints." He should really go back to watercolors. "I'll be ready to go in a few minutes, if that's alright." 

Sylvain shrugged and entered the room, leaving the door open. "Hey, I don't have anything better to do." He looked over the place, eyes going from stacks of paper to the various canvases crammed in the small space.

Ignatz ignored him, going back to the delicate art of crushing pigment and mixing it with his oil, not really thinking about Sylvain behind him. 

There was the sound of a piece of paper being lifted. "Hey, is that me?" 

"Yes, probably," said Ignatz, distracted, "I made a few sketches from memory to practice."

"Your memory is pretty good." Sylvain sounded impressed. 

Ignatz barely registered that, almost forgetting to say "Thank you". He heard more papers being picked up. "Please be careful." 

"I will, don't worry." A pause. "So these were the practice sketches you did of Lorenz? I'm kind of jealous, you did more of him. Or am I just easier to draw?" The implications of that didn't hit Ignatz immediately. "Wow, there's _a lot_ of these…"

Ignatz's head shot up as he realized which pile of drawings Sylvain was looking through, the color draining from his face a split second before it was flooded with scarlet. He stood up within half a second and turned around, trying to grab the papers from Sylvain's hands. 

"Please stop going through my work, Sylvain! You'll - you'll smudge the charcoal!" 

Sylvain pulled the papers away from him before he could grab them, flipping to the next one. "C'mon, I'll be gentle, I just want to know I'm getting my money's worth -" 

Ignatz was panicked, but he didn't want to use force lest he damage the art. "Please put them down, they're just rough sketches, they're not really meant to be looked at -" 

"Hold on," said Sylvain, and the pace at which he started flipping through pages picked up. Ignatz could pinpoint the exact moment his facial expression changed from bemused curiosity to a dawning realization. 

"Sylvain, please…"

He finally stopped. Sylvain gently put the sketches down, then put a hand on the door behind him and shut it closed behind him. "I'm guessing you don't want anyone to overhear this."

Maybe if he had learned to use magic, Ignatz could have used Warp right then. Poof, gone. He certainly didn't want to be there at that moment in time.

Sylvain ran a hand through his hair, looking torn. "So… are you stalking him?" 

"What? No!" Ignatz was shocked at that, and so embarrassed he could sink through the floor. It made it very difficult to pull his thoughts together coherently. "No, I'm… I'm not following him around or anything like that, I - I promise, I was trying to draw from memory and, and got. Um. Carried away."

"I'm no art expert," said Sylvain, "But those pages were _filled_ with that guy. Seems like a bit more than 'carried away'." 

Ignatz folded his hands in an attempt to keep them steady. It was difficult to access his archer training to keep still off the battlefield. "It's really nothing."

"Oh yeah? Then why are you blushing harder than a girl who's just been told she's pretty for the first time?" 

Betrayed by his own face. Ignatz looked down. "It's… I know. I know what it looks like."

Sylvain put a hand on his hip and observed him. "I should've put the drawings down when you asked. That one's on me. But now that I _have_ seen them, it's obvious you have a major thing for him."

Heart squeezing in his chest, Ignatz squirmed. "Maybe. I don't know. It doesn't matter, though, does it? I - I can burn those. I can stop. It's not like I'm ever going to tell him."

"You're not?" It was hard to tell from Sylvain's tone if he approved or disapproved of that. 

Ignatz looked up, trying to read his face to see how hard he was currently being judged. "I'm not naïve. He's a noble heir with a Crest. I'm not wife material. And as you reminded me yourself the other day, I _shot_ him. What am I supposed to say?" 

"I dunno. I don't know what's going on in that head of yours." Sylvain rubbed the bridge of his nose. "This so isn't what I wanted to be doing right now, but alright. I can't talk about the arrow thing, that's out of my league. He seems to have moved on?" He motioned with his hands as if he were setting that aside. "As for the other thing… take it from a noble heir with a Crest: it sucks."

"What do you mean?" 

Sylvain shrugged. "You know how back in the Academy, Lorenz and I were _infamous_ for flirting with every girl we saw?" 

Ignatz's mouth pinched. Was he trying to twist the knife in the wound? "You say that like you stopped." 

"You got me, I haven't. Lorenz has lost a lot of his game, though. That's not my point. My point is that I don't think it's a coincidence that we're both young, handsome heirs to important Houses, and we both have Crests. And I, personally? Hate it. I wish I had been born a commoner."

Ignatz thought, _easy for you to say_ , but he kept listening. 

"The amount of pressure to find a good bride is intense. The amount of women who want in your bed because of your Crest means you can't trust that any of them actually like you for _you_. They don't care about you."

This seemed rather paranoid and unfair, but then, it also wasn't something Ignatz had to worry about. "That's… cynical."

Sylvain gave a bark of laughter. "Yeah, well, turns out I am. I gotta say, though, you're not looking to have kids with him or anything, right?" 

"No, what? No, I - uh, that would be, um, difficult." Ignatz was already very red, he couldn't get more red but it sure felt like it. 

"Exactly. If a guy like you confessed to me, at least I'd know you _meant_ it. I'm not saying that I want you to or anything, but it'd be flattering. So I know us nobles have a rep for turning up our noses over that kind of thing, but I don't think he'd hate you if you did tell him. Guy'd probably like being worshiped."

Ignatz frowned. "Are you suggesting that I tell Lorenz so he can be _flattered_?" 

"Not just that, I mean - okay, not quite what I meant. Let's try this. You wanna know the big difference between me and Lorenz?" 

As far as Ignatz was concerned, almost everything important. "What's that?" 

"Lorenz actually _wants_ to be a noble. If you expect him to give that up for you, he won't. He's going to choose nobility and you'll be left with your heart in pieces." 

Ignatz winced. He couldn't deny it though, but that point he already knew.

"But I think there's a third option. Or more, as long as you think about it differently." 

Now that was a surprise. "What kind of third option?" 

"All of you people in this place seem to think that you'll meet _the One_ and that's all you get, forever. Find them, get married. It doesn't have to be like that! You can go on dates. Keep it casual, put a time limit on it, be friends with benefits, whatever. You've got lots of options. Don't make him promise you anything, keep it all hush hush and you're good to get busy. That's what I would do."

Ignatz wasn't exactly the most experienced in matters of love, or of making love which was more along the lines of some of what Sylvain was implying. Maybe he had a point? Or at least, Ignatz could understand the thought process even though it still felt like a lot of assumptions were being made.

"I don't know… I still don't know what _I_ want, let alone if he -" He looked away. "I don't see why he would…" Why would beautiful, breathtaking, kind Lorenz view him as anything more than a commoner with an artistic streak? Even if Sylvain was right and Lorenz found the attention flattering (which Ignatz did feel tracked, honestly), it didn't exactly mean he wasn't going to get an immediate rejection. And _that_ was assuming he actually wanted some kind of other relationship with him, rather than appreciating him from a distance as a friend.

"Don't ask me. I'm just saying, think about it. Or don't. All I'm saying is that telling him might not be the end of the world."

"...Right." Think about it. Ignatz knew he would think about it if he wanted to or not. He was very good at thinking about things, and less good about not overthinking things.

"So… You still going to paint me or would that be too awkward now?"

* * *

The war was still ongoing, and they headed out to Gronder Field. Despite their best efforts, communication with the Alliance had fallen through. When they arrived on the battlefield, they had no idea if Claude's army were friends or foes. Dimitri insisted they kill anyone in their path, but the professor clarified that they should avoid fighting the Alliance troops unless to defend themselves. 

Lorenz hoped that the Alliance knew he was no longer with the Emperor, especially as the professor was sending him and his battalion around the west alongside Sylvain and Lysithea, while Ignatz, Ashe and Ingrid took the center hill in order to secure the ballista. The rest would follow Dimitri in his attempt to cut through directly to Edelgard. 

Things didn't go as planned. As the battle went on, Lorenz found himself separated from the others, even his own batallion. Isolated and in a patch of forest, his orders became increasingly irrelevant. He needed to regroup. 

A large figure burst through the trees, and just as Lorenz raised his Relic, he stopped, recognizing who it was. 

"Raphael?" 

"Lorenz?" The big man (somehow even bigger than they last met) raised his knuckled gauntlets. "Do we gotta fight?" 

"I consider the Empire to be my enemy, not you." Not to mention the thread of responsibility he still felt towards him. He would make up for his father's actions. 

Raphael lowered his hands. "Great! That would have sucked."

"Yes, it would have. I don't believe Ignatz would ever forgive me." 

"Wait, Ignatz? You've seen him?" 

"We've both been at Garreg Mach, with Professor Byleth." Like Ignatz, the Prince wasn't the one who Lorenz considered he followed.

"Yeah, I think he said something about that but it was awhile ago. Is he alright?" 

"He's been trying to send you letters, but we believe the Empire keeps killing our messengers."

"That's not good." Raphael frowned. "I haven't gotten any of 'em."

Lorenz watched him thoughtfully. Raphael's rough nature grated, but it was clear that he truly cared for Ignatz. That was something they had in common. "He's here. He should be on the hill by now." If he was still alive. Goddess, let them all make out of this alive. "We can fight our way that way together, if you wish to be allies."

"Sounds good to me!" Raphael slammed his fists together. 

Together they broke from the trees and immediately became embroiled in battle with Imperial soldiers. The hill was close enough that Lorenz could see two familiar figures and what remained of their battalions up there, with their guardian Pegasus Knight above.

Lorenz was just thinking the others could stick it out until they got there when the hill burst into flames. A cry strangled in his throat. "Ignatz!" 

He vaporized the soldier in front of him without a second's thought, and began running up the hill, fire licking at his feet as he ran up the hill as fast as he could.

"Hey!" Raphael punched out the soldier he was fighting and followed. 

The hill was empty of living enemy soldiers, and Lorenz ignored the bodies. Where was he? Where was Ignatz? 

Ingrid swooped down, rearing her pegasus. "Are you mad? Get off the hill!" 

It wasn't Lorenz who responded, but Raphael. "Not until we find our buddy!" 

She stared at him. "Raphael? Since when are you…?" 

Lorenz had no time for useless reunions. "Where is - where are they?"

"Ashe went chasing after Petra. Ignatz is at the ballista." She pointed her spear, and Lorenz spotted that lone figure, alive. But Ingrid wasn't done. "My pegasus can't take the weight of two. Have you been studying your Faith?" 

Lorenz's heart leapt to his throat. She wouldn't ask that unless it was needed. He didn't answer her question, immediately running forward. The flames were starting to get to him, but he could take them for a bit. Raphael managed to stick on his heels. 

Ignatz was slumped over the ballista, awake and alive but barely hanging in there. 

"Ignatz!" Lorenz reached him, pulling him up, checking his wounds and immediately preparing a healing spell. He _had_ been studying his faith. A quick one first, to stabilize him. 

"Lorenz? Why are you…" Ignatz stumbled, gripping Lorenz for support.

"Here, let me." Raphael took Ignatz from Lorenz and lifted him up in his arms. 

"... Raphael?" 

"Hey, buddy. We're gonna make sure you're alright." Raphael looked to Lorenz. "Where to?" 

Lorenz surveyed the battlefield, able to see everything from the high ground. It was chaos. The Alliance was next to nothing and in retreat, Claude's new wyvern nowhere to be seen. Most of the Kingdom's troops were fighting the enemy to the northeast. He pointed north. They'd be close by the Kingdom's other troops but hopefully not immediately attacked. 

Down the hill they went. Ingrid flew off ahead of them to clear the way; Lorenz saw her meet up with Ashe, holding off the enemy. Lorenz, Raphael and their charge reached the bottom of the hill shortly after. Lorenz took a moment to cough and take a vulnenary as Raphael softly set Ignatz down. 

As soon as possible, Lorenz crouched beside him, working his healing magic on an injured and scorched Ignatz. He frowned. "These cuts aren't from the fire."

"Petra got too close." Ignatz held still as Lorenz worked. He looked up. "Raphael, what are you doing here?" 

"Helping out a couple of buddies! Me and Lorenz figured we'd team up."

Ignatz gave a weak smile. "That's good."

Lorenz heard hoofbeats. He spun around, one hand on Ignatz's chest while the other, holding Thyrsus, whipped around to attack. He stopped when he saw who it was. 

" _That's_ where you went, Lorenz. I lost you. I so wasn't looking forward to breaking the news that you'd died."

"Sylvain?" At least he was still alright. "Where's Lysithea?" 

"She's fine, I think. She warped me ahead to go see what's going on. Is the battle over? Whoever the Alliance had left have already retreated." He spotted Raphael and looked momentarily confused. "...Except for this guy, apparently."

Ignatz moved as if he was going to get up, but Lorenz put a hand on his shoulder, voice soft. "Rest for a moment."

His charge dutifully stopped halfway, propped up on his elbows. "Claude?" 

Sylvain had a curious expression on his face for a moment, but it passed. "Alive, wounded but retreating last I saw. I dunno if the Alliance is gonna be able to recover from this."

Raphael scratched his head. "That's no good. Looks like I'm stranded."

"You could come with us," said Lorenz, "The professor would surely welcome you with open arms. I was."

"Your old room is just how you left it," said Ignatz. 

"I guess that works," said Raphael, always one to roll with the punches. 

Sylvain cleared his throat. "Alright, well, I'm going to ride on ahead and get the latest from the professor. And tell them we're taking on one more." He galloped off, leaving the three former Golden Deers alone.

"I'm glad you're here, Raphael," said Ignatz. 

"Me too!" 

As far as Lorenz was concerned, Ignatz's smile in response to that made fetching Raphael to him more than worth it. Even if it did make him feel strange, as if he was left out. It was an uncomfortable feeling, to be jealous of commoners. 

Ignatz sat up, checking himself. "You've gotten good at healing. Thank you, Lorenz."

Lorenz wanted to sweep him up in his arms and hug him close and tell him to never frighten him like that again. He stuffed those feelings down and gave a polite smile. "You're very welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't go through with it, so: Bernadetta's fine. She slept in that day. Missed the whole battle at Gronder Field. The amount I'm steering off canon rails increases with every chapter. Much like how Raphael's been recruited now, please just roll with it. It's my fic and so it's my turn to choose who lives and who dies. Thank you.


	3. Held Accountable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a hard turn with what I originally planned, so I've updated the tags accordingly. Lorenz and Ignatz both deserve better fathers.

Ingrid found Lysithea, and the two had even found the remnants of Lorenz's battalion. As for the army as a whole, they hadn't escaped from the battle unscathed, though there had been a change in Dimitri for the better. For once it seemed as though they all had hope again, and that made it difficult for them all to be appropriately somber at the loss of an ally. 

For Ignatz, he also had his best friend back, plucked from the battlefield itself as if Lorenz had simply picked a wildflower. But if Ignatz had gained a friend, he seemed to have lost one in exchange. He hardly saw Lorenz those next few days, except for their second painting session which had been almost entirely silent, and Lorenz had left immediately afterwards. Maybe it was his imagination, but it almost seemed like the noble was avoiding him. He assumed that he had done something wrong.

Raphael sat at the edge of his bed, having come to borrow some paper to write a letter. 

"I sure hope my sister's alright," he said, for what must have been the dozenth time. "Claude promised to take care of her if anything happened to me, but I don't want her to think I'm dead."

"It's good that letters are getting through to the Alliance again. Hopefully it'll get to her soon."

"Yeah. Lorenz said you'd been sending me some before, but I never got anything. Neither did your folks."

Ignatz rubbed the side of his neck. "I… didn't actually send them anything."

"What?" Raphael looked up with surprise. "Why not?" 

The amount of guilt he felt over admitting that to Raphael, who could never write to his parents again, was a lot. "I never know what to say. I doubt my father actually cares about what I'm doing - I, I mean, if I fell in battle I think, I hope he'd - but it's fine. I thought you'd let them know I was okay and that would work." 

They got in a bit of a discussion over that. It wasn't quite an argument, but it wasn't _not_ an argument. They were interrupted by a knock on the door. 

Ignatz opened the door to Mercedes standing there smiling at him, a plate of cookies in her hands. "Hello, Ignatz. I was looking for Raphael?" 

Ignatz let her in as she offered the cookies to his oldest friend. "I thought I'd bake you something to welcome you back to the monastery. I know you prefer meat, but…" 

"No, this is great, thanks!" Raphael took the plate and, after offering one to Ignatz, immediately started inhaling the cookies.

Mercedes giggled and looked at Ignatz. "I hope you don't mind crumbs on your floor. Lorenz told me that if I wanted to find Raphael, I should check with you."

Ignatz smiled politely. "Oh? How is Lorenz doing?"

Mercedes tilted her head. "Wouldn't you know that better than me?" 

"No?" Ignatz wondered if he was going to be accused of being a stalker again, even after burning all his offending drawings. "I haven't spoken to him much since we got back." 

"Really?" She looked surprised. "But you two have been so close!"

"Oh ho?" That was Raphael, between bites.

Mercedes laughed a little. "A little like Annie and me. I do hope you haven't abandoned your friend now that you have your old one back." There was almost a bit of reproach in her teasing. 

Ignatz shook his head, feeling embarrassed. "It's not me. I'd be happy to talk to him." It wasn't a lie; he enjoyed Lorenz's company even when he felt ashamed over his complicated feelings about him. "I think I might have upset him somehow."

"Upset him? You? He only ever has kind words to say about you, which is saying something. He's not always reluctant to point out flaws."

Ignatz could feel himself starting to blush. "Don't say that, I'm sure that he knows I have plenty of faults."

"Stop selling yourself short, Ignatz.You're great!" Raphael held out an empty plate to Mercedes. "Thanks for these, they were tasty."

Mercedes stared at Raphael a second before laughing again. "That was fast!" 

Ignatz finally ate the one cookie he'd managed to grab at the start, and they talked about them for a while, steering away from Lorenz, a subject Ignatz didn't want to dwell on in company. 

It was too much to hope that he'd be free completely as Mercedes stopped him before she left. "Lorenz is probably being silly. I can talk to him if you want."

Ignatz couldn't help but smile a little. "I'm not used to people calling him silly."

"Oh, he's very silly when it comes to nobility and things like that. Don't worry, I'll see what's wrong."

"There's no need to trouble yourself -"

"It's no trouble at all," said Mercedes, already on her way.

* * *

Lorenz brushed his horse after taking her for a ride. Horse riding was a skill he had been eager to learn. What was more striking than the image of a noble on a horse? But recently he had been thinking of it differently. He had not ridden his horse in the most recent battle, having chosen to go on foot. He wondered if that would have changed things. Would he have been able to make it to Ignatz sooner? Or would he never have gotten separated from the others, and therefore never run into Raphael?

Raphael. Lorenz did not regret bringing him into the fold. It put the commoner in a place where Lorenz could protect him if need be, and he still felt good that he had reunited Ignatz with his best friend. Now as he tried to peel himself away from his infatuation, he knew at least he wasn't leaving Ignatz alone. It was better this way. 

"Hello again, Lorenz." 

He looked up from brushing his horse, to see Mercedes leaning into the stables. "Mercedes, hello. Did you find Raphael?" 

"I did! He enjoyed his cookies, I think. He certainly ate them fast enough. I was going to make some for Felix too, to cheer him up, but I don't think he likes sweets."

"Have you tried getting him a sword?" 

Mercedes eyed him. "That's not really an appropriate mourning gift, is it?" 

"Perhaps not, but if you know anything else that man likes, be sure to enlighten me."

"Sylvain, maybe? I don't know how to give him that, though."

There was a sudden sound from elsewhere in the stables. Lorenz looked around, but after a moment a cat came running by. Just an animal. 

Lorenz looked back at Mercedes. "Perhaps what he needs is a friendly ear."

"That's a good idea, Lorenz." She looked at him serenely, but there was that glint in her eye that warned him he was about to get a very gentle talking-to. "Speaking of, I just talked to Ignatz while I was delivering the cookies…" 

That wasn't a good sign for the direction of this conversation. Lorenz kept his voice light and casual. "Oh? So you did find Raphael with him?" 

"Yes," said Mercedes, patiently undeterred. "He said you haven't been talking to him recently."

"Did he? Oh, come to think of it, it's been a while. I suppose he's been so wrapped up catching up with Raphael…" 

"I think he misses you." Mercedes couldn't have pierced his heart with better aim than any of the archers in that place. 

"It's only been a few days, I hardly think that's enough time for that." He slipped back into his most Noble of manners, a thick wall always capable of the repression of true feelings. 

"That may be true, but he thinks you're mad at him. Did you two have a fight?" 

His noble walls crumbled a little already. "Not at all. He's done absolutely nothing wrong. I promise."

She folded her hands in front of her. "Then maybe you should go say hello and reassure him. You know how he gets. He has a big imagination, so he can perfectly imagine the worst."

Mercedes wasn't his father, she would address the issue directly until he ran out of excuses. But he had already told one person about his feelings for Ignatz, which was already one person too much. What could he say that would nip this in the bud, without making things worse for Ignatz if she told him, and not be the whole truth? He scrambled for an answer. There _had_ been something else on his mind.

"It's not his fault, I promise, but I… I feel awkward around Raphael. It's nothing against him, but he and I are from such different worlds that we have very little common ground. I never know what to say. I felt that Ignatz should have some time alone with him, instead of me intruding upon their reunion with my… clashing sensibilities."

Mercedes bought it, though it didn't have the effect that Lorenz had hoped. "Just as I thought, it was a silly noble thing. I'm sure that feeling will fade. Just spend some time with them and it'll get easier with practice!"

"It's fine, truly. I'm enjoying having some time to myself for now. I just need some space for a while."

"If you say so," said Mercedes with a sigh. Suddenly she snapped her fingers. "Smoked meat! I just remembered Felix likes smoked meat. Is that more appropriate than a sword?" 

"It's probably more comforting," said Lorenz, feeling like a rabbit when the hunting dog has passed.

"I'll go see if I can find some. I'll talk to you later!" 

Mercedes left and Lorenz went back to brushing his horse. Something in his horse's eyes almost seemed reproachful. He knew he was projecting.

"Don't look at me like that," he said to her as a way to convince himself, feeling foolish for doing so. "She is not entitled to the truth."

* * *

It seemed like _forever_ until Lorenz left the stables. Sylvain's legs had fallen asleep, and he carefully lifted one of the cats that had been asleep on his lap off. The other one had run away earlier when he had jumped a little at hearing his name. 

He knew that he should have said something when Mercedes came in, but what? _Hey guys, by the way, you can't see me from your angle but I'm here too._ He hadn't as at first he didn't feel like talking to Lorenz, and by the time he realized where the conversation was going, it was way, way too awkward to make himself known. It so wasn't his fault. 

That said, it sounded like there was trouble in paradise, huh? He stretched as he got up, dancing a little on tingling legs. From what limited information he had on the situation, he drew the conclusion that Ignatz had been rejected. Lorenz was doing what Sylvain did when he was ducking from some woman he didn't want to see anymore: avoid avoid avoid, pretend _it's not you, it's me_. Classic. 

What a waste. Sylvain left the stables, brushing off some hay from his clothes, feeling coming back to his legs. All that wingmanning and for what? The exact outcome he predicted. Oh, Lorenz. What an idiot. 

He spotted Ingrid talking to a soldier nearby. "Ladies!" They turned to look at him. "Hey, have you ever tried your hardest to help someone only for the tragedy you were trying to prevent occur?" 

Ingrid looked at him flatly. "Was the tragedy a girl ending up alone without you?" 

"Don't be like that, this time it was truly selfless. Keep this to yourselves, ladies, but let me tell you the tale of an unrequited love -" 

Women always got more mushy after a heartwrenching romantic tale, in his experience. He shaved off the names and details enough to spare anyone embarrassment or censure, and he knew Ingrid liked Ignatz enough to not mention it if she connected the dots.

He should have paid more mind to the soldier she was with.

* * *

"Lorenz, we've received a message." Dimitri turned his eye his way. 

Lorenz wasn't expecting to be called upon during a war council meeting, particularly one which involved Fhirdiad. True, he had studied there a bit, but that was years ago. No, this had to be something else. "A message?" 

"From Count Gloucester."

The rest of the council went hush.

A chill went through him. His father contacting the Crown Prince directly, without speaking to him first? That was not a good sign. "Is it good or bad news?" 

"He's bringing us troops."

Lorenz's eyes widened. 

It wasn't him but Lysithea who asked, frowning, "Surely you mean _sending_ us troops?" 

"No." That was the professor, whose eyes were on Lorenz. "He's bringing them himself."

He could feel everyone else's eyes turn to him, too. "That's unusual for my father." A truly incredible understatement. His father's hand was always distant and he was rarely directly involved in something so tricky that he could easily pass on. Normally that was put on Lorenz's shoulders. 

"Do you think that we can trust him?" The professor's gaze was clear. 

Lorenz considered what he should say, and he caught a glimpse of Ignatz's deep frown down the table.

"No." He held up a hand. "Allow me to clarify - I don't believe he would attack us. That will not be his intention, and he wouldn't be so foolish. He would be even _less_ likely to come personally if that were the case. That said, I may not know what it is he wants, but he will have something up his sleeve."

"So…" said Dimitri, watching him. 

"Take the troops and keep an eye on him," said Felix, balancing a dagger horizontally on a finger. "It's probably either a political statement or a family matter."

"Lorenz?" The Professor wanted it to be his call, it seemed. 

He really hoped Felix wasn't right about the latter option, but he had a sinking feeling he was correct. "Yes, that's the best way to handle it. Accept with caution."

It was decided, and the council moved on to other matters. As soon as it ended, however, Lorenz swept out of the room and walked away as fast as he could. Somewhere, anywhere. 

He ended up at the training grounds. Confident with his magic, he practiced his lance skills. Hit the dummy, over and over and over and over and over again and maybe, _maybe_ he could be calm. 

"Now, what did that poor thing ever do to you?" 

Lorenz stopped, breathing heavily, and looked around at Ferdinand. 

Ferdinand and Lorenz had tea together occasionally, but that was most of their relationship. It was friendly and cordial, though. Now Ferdinand was here with his glorious mane of hair and an understanding expression. 

Lorenz leaned on his spear. "It's a noble's duty to train their body enough to protect the commonfolk underneath them."

He knew Ferdinand knew that wasn't why he was here. But he surely would be used to the delicate dance of upper-class non-answers for proprietary. It was a time honored tradition. 

"Of course," said Ferdinand smoothly. "And your father will want to know you're keeping up with your duties."

Lorenz nodded, trying not to wrinkle his nose. "He'll want to know I've been keeping up with _all_ my duties."

"Is there one you've been neglecting? That would be surprising coming from you."

He thought about it. He didn't actually know what he had done, or if it was even about him at all. The only thing he could think of was a tightly guarded secret. "I don't believe I have, but my father and I don't always see eye to eye on what's proper for a noble."

"I see," said Ferdinand, crossing his arms. "My father and I didn't either. Most of his legacy I am ashamed to be associated with."

That was a very familiar feeling. "I can imagine."

"I never had the opportunity to convince my father that he was wrong, as much as I wanted to."

"I… I'm sorry to hear that."

Ferdinand sighed. "It is what it is. Do you think that you can have your words reach your own father?" 

"It… depends. He agreed to pull our House away from the Empire on my word."

Their relationship was complicated. The Count often acted in ways Lorenz felt were intolerable, but he did sometimes choose to lend an ear. The fact that he had taken Lorenz's advice to withdraw support from the Empire at all was a huge deal. He was too practical to be truly narcissistic, and he was not outright cruel. But he was not the most loving of fathers. Lorenz did not think that he could do anything unless it was truly horrible to be disowned, but a part of him wondered if that was less out of love and more because he had no siblings to inherit for him. 

It seemed so long ago now, but he remembered lying on the ground, half on top of Ignatz as the commoner begged for him to consider his own life. He had told Ignatz he was prepared to defy his father, and in that moment he had believed it. He did not want to die in blind obedience for a cause he did not believe in, killed by someone who he didn't want to be fighting and who clearly felt the same. Ignatz had given him a way out, and he had taken it. But once his defiance was no longer necessary, he had lost his courage. 

Realization dawned on him. He looked back up at Ferdinand. "I don't know if it was my words that moved him. I think he allowed me to stay here in order to keep me from truly leaving his grasp. If he had ordered me to return, I wouldn't have." 

Ferdinand hummed in thought. "If he is coming here himself, then he may have something he wants that he thinks you will not obey him on."

"That's a daunting prospect." But it had an air of truth to it. He bit his lip. He had to prepare for the possibility.

* * *

There were few people Ignatz disliked, and Count Gloucester was one of them. He had never met the man. He disliked him from how he managed his territory. He disliked him for being involved in the deaths of Raphael's parents, even if that was unproven. And now he added something new to his list - he disliked seeing Lorenz so anxious. Ignatz knew anxiety personally, knew how it felt, and could recognize it immediately. And he knew exactly why Lorenz would be like this. 

Lorenz was still being distant, but the lighting was finally right in the Cathedral and he had agreed to sit for the final session. Ignatz tried to make the experience as pleasant as possible, not knowing what else he could do to comfort the noble. He knew Lorenz was fine with silence, so he didn't try to chatter his worries away, but he did try to be as warm as possible, and keep a friendly smile on his face so Lorenz would not have to gaze upon a frown. 

He painted. Trying to catch that soft glow on the skin took most of the time. He would paint, wipe it off - the under layers were dry enough to remain - and try again. Ignatz was self-taught; he had to guess how best to get the effect. Still, he managed to figure out something that looked nice. Stroke after stroke, as fast as possible before the light could change. 

Finally he sat back. There was nothing more he could do. "I… I think I'm done. You can relax now."

Lorenz stretched in his way, and Ignatz purposefully didn't watch. 

"Do you mind?" Lorenz gestured to the painting. 

"Be gentle. It's still wet." 

Lorenz picked up the painting and held it up. He inhaled sharply. "Oh, Ignatz…" 

Was that good? Bad? Ignatz's stomach twisted. "How do you like it?"

"It's a masterpiece. I am not being self-serving, it could be of anyone and the skill you put in it would shine like the sun. Look at these subtle strokes, the way you captured the light, it's marvelous."

Ignatz stared at that expression on his face as to burn it into his memory forever. Not to paint this time, but because it made his heart flip. To be able to make Lorenz so happy made it all worth it. "I'm so glad." 

Lorenz couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from it. "Truly, you deserve all the praise you can get." Then he paused, searching for something. "Oh! You haven't signed it. You must sign it."

He gave the painting back to Ignatz, who, blushing, signed his name. "If you insist."

"I do! You must take credit for your own work, after all you put into it."

Ignatz's smile was wide. He was so pleased and embarrassed, simultaneously. He explained to Lorenz that it would again take a couple of days to dry, but after that it was his. He had to endure even more praise for that, even Hilda couldn't have matched it.

As they walked back, Lorenz holding the cushions this time, the noble cleared his throat and said, almost a bit nervously, "I'm sorry we haven't spoken much this past while. I hope you don't think you've done anything wrong."

Surprised, Ignatz looked at his face. He looked genuinely sorrowful. "Oh, uh, it's - it's okay. It's nice that you spend time with me at all, you don't have to."

That didn't help Lorenz's expression. "I want to. Truly. I wish -" He stopped, looking away. "I do apologize."

Ignatz didn't fully understand, but he accepted the apology. "I've been meaning to thank you."

"Thank _me_?" 

"For you and Raphael getting me off the hill. And for healing me. I'll never forget it."

They had reached Ignatz's room, and as he let himself in he didn't see Lorenz's face. He had an easel set up for the painting it could dry on and placed it there.

"Where should I place the cushions?" 

Ignatz directed him, and then for a moment they were alone together in his room, hands free. He wasn't sure what to say, whether he should say goodbye or ask him to tea, or, not that he would ever be so bold, ask him to stay and close the door. 

Lorenz licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Yes. Well. I…" His hands twitched.

"Is something wrong?" 

"No, I…" Lorenz paused. With great effort he said, "My father should arrive tomorrow. I know how you feel about him, and if you wish to avoid him I will not introduce you."

"Oh!" Was that it? For a second Ignatz had been entertaining the absurd notion that something else was going to happen. Ridiculous. "Right, yes. That would probably be for the best."

Lorenz nodded. "Yes, I'll even try to steer him away from you. Well. I'll… I will speak to you some other time, Ignatz. Good day." 

Very stiffly he turned around and left. Ignatz shut the door behind him, collapsed on his bed and stuffed his face into his pillow and groaned into it. 

It was so unfair. Why, of all the people in Fodlan, was Ignatz falling for Count Gloucester's only son and heir? He wanted to be an artist when he was supposed to be a knight. He wanted Lorenz to kiss him when he knew there was no way a noble like him would kiss another man. Why did he always want what he couldn't have? What was wrong with him? _Why was Lorenz so attractive_? Why couldn't he have been born a commoner, at least?

 _Goddess_ , he prayed, _let him move on_.

* * *

Count Gloucester was thin and lanky with his violet hair cut short and his clothes regal. The Alliance had no king, but he dressed for the part regardless. He acted the part as well, which was a bit presumptuous.

Lorenz knew they had a family resemblance, but he had made some different choices in order to be more distinct. Some of it was natural, like his love for roses and flowered patterns in his clothing and armor, while his father preferred straight lines and rigid designs. Lorenz had grown his hair out as well, breaking free from the barber his father had always took him to. He wasnnot his father. He hoped that what Ignatz said once was true: he was better.

Now, standing between the crown Prince of Faerghus, his once-professor, and Seteth, the church's representative, Lorenz faced his newly-arrived father.

"Lorenz. You've found yourself among some very esteemed company." The Count bowed to Dimitri, a shorter bow to Seteth, and then, to Lorenz's surprise, a rather deep one to Byleth. "Thank you for taking care of my beloved son. He could be in no better hands."

He was simultaneously complimenting the others while making sure Lorenz knew he approved of the political connections he had made. How transparent. But it did instantly establish a couple of things: one, Lorenz was not in trouble, at least for that, two, that his father felt that their side had the advantage. The troops he brought were genuine.

Lorenz bowed to his father. "I have been truly blessed to be welcomed by such wonderful friends."

Referring to such people as his _friends_ in such a familial way would drive the Count up the wall, but there was absolutely no way he would chide Lorenz for it in their presence. He could tell by the glint of the eyes and the way his father adjusted his monocle that it had the desired effect. 

This sort of thing was what his father had always told him was the language of nobility, but having spent so much time around other ones, Lorenz had come to the realization that while many could engage in it on occasion, no one was as fluent as the Gloucesters. 

The prince and the others welcomed the Count into the monastery, and the conversation and formalities went on some time. Lorenz was glad this had not happened a month ago, when the prince was in no shape to match his father's manners. Seteth was well used to dealing with people like this but mostly kept quiet, and never took his eyes off the Count. Byleth's simple straightforwardness was the perfect thing to not dodge but shrug off the Count's verbal schemes. 

Try taking him away from this now, father. If bringing him home in exchange for troops was his father's intention as he guessed, Lorenz was going to put up a fight. Metaphorically, hopefully, literally if necessary. He was not leaving. 

"I thank you for your gratuitous hospitality," the Count said eventually, "After such a long day travelling, my legs are tired, as they are no longer what they used to be. Please forgive me for saying so."

"By all means, rest," said Dimitri, "We have a room prepared for you."

"Your kindness does you credit, your highness."

"I'll be happy to show it to you."

"No, I would not want to trouble your highness, who has already taken such time out of his busy day for the likes of me. Lorenz, my boy, surely you would do your father the honor?" 

Lorenz took the hint and offered his father an arm and led him to his room, with full knowledge that the Count was not frail at all.

After they were no longer in the company of the others, his father dropped his arm. "I confess, I had thought you had gone mad when you chose to come here once more, but it seems the Goddess smiled upon us."

Ah. Of course. The Goddess was the one who made sure Lorenz had made the right choice, not that his son had made a decision based on skilled reasoning. Particularly pointed, as neither of them were particularly faithful even as they went through the motions. 

"I'm truly flattered that the Goddess trusted my judgement."

"You come close to heresy, boy." That comment was a non-threat, just a light admonishment. 

"I'm surprised you came yourself, father, given how much in demand your time has been." They reached the room the Count was to stay in. "Surely you could have sent the steward?" 

As Lorenz opened the door for him, the Count said, "I would not insult the soon to be King of Faerghus that way. Besides, I would not wish to miss my son's engagement announcement." 

It felt as if the Count had shoved Lorenz's soul from his body with those words. "...You must be mistaken, I am not engaged."

The Count entered the room, turned around and looked down his nose at his son, monocle glinting. "I don't know _who_ you will choose as a wife, but if you do not announce an engagement by the time I am to leave then I will have to find a suitable match for you myself."

It was very rare that Count Gloucester spoke that way. There was no wriggle-room, no loop holes, no euphemisms to hide behind. His father had pulled his leash taut. Lorenz had been preparing for his father to try to bring him home. Now all his preparations were useless. His ears buzzed. 

"Do you understand me, Lorenz?" 

Weakly, Lorenz said, "I understand, father."

The door was shut in his face. 

A thousand things ran through his head as he stared at that door, most of which were about Ignatz. He couldn't talk to Ignatz about this though, not without giving away more than he wished. That left… 

Dorothea. 

Only the knowledge that it would be entirely undignified to run kept him from doing so as he looked for her. He was too panicked to be relieved when he did find her just outside the cathedral. 

"Lorenz! You look like you've seen the Death Knight in your bedroom. What's wrong, what happened? Was it your father?"

Lorenz wrung his hands, not sure where to put his eyes, not wanting to meet hers. He nodded dumbly. "He's made it very clear why he's here."

"Is he taking you home?" 

Lorenz had already divulged that suspicion, but he shook his head. "No. Either I am to find myself a wife or he will. He wants me engaged."

"He gave you an ultimatum?" The shock on Dorothea's face quickly turned to righteous anger. "That awful, horrible man. He can't force these things! Even Ingrid can talk her father down from an arranged marriage she doesn't want! Who is _he_ to decide for you?" 

"I know." Lorenz allowed her to say the things he wanted to say himself.

"Why now? In the middle of a war? Is he mad? Couldn't he have just waited?" 

"You remember how I said he'd react to my problem, don't you?" It was the only thing that made sense. His father had found out about his feelings for Ignatz.

Dorothea put a hand to her mouth. "Lorenz, I _swear_ I haven't said anything. I would never."

"No," said Lorenz. He had doubted her, initially, but seeing her shock and anger on his behalf convinced him otherwise. Maybe she could have learned that acting on the stage but he chose to trust her instead. "I know you didn't. I don't know where the leak came from, but there's no use worrying about it now. Perhaps I have not been as good at hiding it as I thought."

She clasped her hands together. "What are you going to do?" 

Lorenz frowned. "I have no wish to give up my choice in who I am to wed. Either I manage to convince one of the women here who I like to get engaged and satisfy his terms, or I have mere weeks to convince him that I need more time and stall him until the end of the war."

"You do have a third option," said Dorothea. "You could tell him to go home and mind his own business." 

"Dorothea." 

She gave him an even look. "I'm serious. Maybe not that _exactly_ , but you can stand up to him. I know you can." 

He paused. He had decided twice that he was ready to defy his father. Would he still be able to? "I still have time. I'll… I'll have to think of something."

He really, truly hoped he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to imagine that in an alternate cf timeline (despite the fact that Dorothea is in the Black Eagle House), Hubert becomes Lorenz's confidant and that last conversation goes very differently. "You do have a third option. Murder." "Excuse me? No?" "Why not? Patricide is a perfectly legitimate solution. If you don't wish to do it, I'll be happy to. Just say the word. Any time."


	4. Facts, Facades, Friends, Family

Ignatz was grabbing his painting supplies when there was a knock on his door. "In a second, Sylvain!" 

"Oh," came a voice that was distinctly not Sylvain, "Were you expecting someone?" 

Ignatz went white and opened the door. His visitor was a stranger he recognized immediately. That nose, the hue of his hair. "You're…" 

The man gave a nod, not a bow. "Count Gloucester. You are Ignatz Victor, correct?" 

Evidently, the decision to avoid introducing the two of them had become completely irrelevant. "Excuse me, yes, yes I - that's me. What are you… I mean, what can I do for you, your excellency?"

 _Why was he here_? How did he know who Ignatz was? What was happening? What was he supposed to do? 

"The polite thing would be to invite me inside."

"My room? Ah, it's not really a place for, um, a Count, is it? You can if you want but -" 

The Count nodded. "That would be very gracious of you."

Ignatz had no choice but to step aside. The Count's eyes were immediately drawn to the painting on the easel in the corner and he stepped over to it at once. 

"So _that's_ the painting you have done of my son."

That he had heard of it was less of a surprise. Even if Lorenz avoided mentioning it, people had come and gone from the cathedral when they had been in there. He should have expected this, really. 

"Ah, careful please, it's still drying! I wouldn't want you to get paint on your clothes, your excellency." That could have been smooth, if his voice wasn't shaking. 

"Of course, I will not touch it. But do allow me to gaze upon it for a moment."

Ignatz fell silent. It was the weirdest thing. He disliked this man, and finally meeting him had not changed that one whit, but he still hoped the Count liked his painting. 

"You _are_ very skilled. Your father says you are to become a knight. He made a grievous error, in my opinion."

Ignatz swallowed, thoughts instantly interrupted by a dozen new questions. "You've spoken to my father?" 

"Oh yes," said the Count, eyes still on the painting. "He wants you to return home."

Ignatz opened his mouth, blinking, too surprised for words.

"I would be happy to escort you when you leave," said the Count, "In addition, I may be able to convince your father he is being foolish. You could be an artist, Master Victor."

Ignatz gaped at him. This man had walked into his life and within half a minute had upturned the entire thing. He was a Count. Ignatz should say something. But all he could think to ask was, "Why?" 

The Count turned to look at him, and the expression on his face did not match the one usually on his son's. There was no kindness there. He was not doing this to be magnanimous. Ignatz swallowed. This man was everything he thought he was, wasn't he? He was now sure that it wasn't _Ignatz's_ father who wanted him home. Or if he did, he had been persuaded into that desire. 

"Why, you painted such a lovely portrait of my son. I'm grateful. You clearly put your _heart_ into it. I hope that when he gets married, you can paint him and his bride with as much love and dedication."

He knew. _He knew_. How did he know? How could he have possibly found out? Did he just take one look at the painting and see into his soul? But no, if he spoke to his father than he already planned something. Think. He didn't kill Raphael's parents directly, they were in the line of fire when he was aiming for someone else. Count Gloucester was infamous for coming at things sideways. The painting must be an excuse.

He had to convince the Count he had no intentions with Lorenz, and maybe Ignatz wouldn't mysteriously disappear on the way back to the Alliance. 

"That's very flattering, your excellency. Lorenz told me he was looking for a wife, and I hoped he could find one. It matters a lot to him." He gave a polite smile he didn't feel. "I'd be happy if he succeeded."

It was, ironically, saying those words that he realized how untrue they were. He had accepted that Lorenz was out of his league, and if Lorenz got married to someone else he would accept that too. But accepting it didn't mean he would _like_ it. It wouldn't make him happy. It would break his heart. 

All he could do was hope his lie wasn't obvious. 

The Count smiled at him. "So would I. Well, we'll speak of our return trip later." As if it were already settled. "You were expecting someone, weren't you?" 

"I've been painting Sylvain - Sylvain Jose Gautier?" Ignatz gestured to another canvas, leaning against the wall with the beginnings of that painting. He hoped that he could convince the Count that the painting was one of many he was doing, and Lorenz's wasn't special. 

"Oh, have you? Isn't he the Gautier heir? You have quite the taste."

What was he implying? "It's an odd coincidence, I know." Bad excuse even if it was true. "Or maybe it's because the… the grace of nobility. I do like to paint, uh, inspirational subjects."

"Hm." The Count eyed him. "Yes, you could do very well as a painter, with a little polishing of your manners. Very well. I will not keep you from your work."

Count Gloucester left. Ignatz stood in the center of his room, with precisely the same feeling as when he had to face a Demonic Beast. 

He grabbed his supplies and the canvas. Where was Sylvain, anyway? He asked around and found him in the gardens, talking to Ingrid and Raphael. Raphael spotted him first. 

"Buddy!" 

Sylvain looked and slapped his forehead. "The painting session! Sorry, Ignatz, I lost track of time."

Ingrid raised her eyebrows. "Are you okay? You look kind of pale."

Raphael pushed aside Ignatz's bangs and held the back of his hand to Ignatz's forehead. "You don't feel like you have a fever. Did you forget to eat again? You're shaking!" 

Very quietly he said, "Count Gloucester came to speak with me."

"What?" Ingrid looked confused. "Lorenz's…? No offense, Ignatz, but I don't understand why he would want to speak to you."

"Well, Ignatz's parents do trade in his territory," said Raphael. 

Ignatz looked pointedly at Sylvain. "He says he's going to escort me home."

Ingrid and Raphael both made confused expressions but Sylvain buried his face in his hands. "To get you away."

When Sylvain said it, Ignatz knew it was true. He nodded. "To get me away."

Raphael scratched his head. "Away? From what?"

"From _who_ , you mean" said Sylvain. 

Ingrid was looking between Sylvain and Ignatz. "One moment, do you mean that story from the other day? I thought it might have been about Ignatz - it was true?" 

Something stirred in Ignatz. He looked at Sylvain. "What story?" 

Sylvain winced. "I didn't mean anything by it," he said. "I promise I tried to avoid identifying details. But I may, uh, have mentioned to Ingrid and her friend a bit about your situation?" 

"Situation?" Raphael wasn't following. 

" _Sylvain_!" The anger returned some color to Ignatz's cheeks. 

"I'm sorry!" 

Ingrid smacked Sylvain's arm lightly. 

"Ow, what was that for? I said I was sorry!" 

"You're such an idiot! That friend of mine? We met at the last battle. I was sent to look for Lysithea and found the last few soldiers of Lorenz's battalion, that's how I met her." 

"So…?" 

"His _personal_ battalion that he brought with him? The ones that originally worked for House Gloucester?" 

"... _Oh_. Okay, yeah, I'm an idiot."

Ignatz groaned, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. "And then this friend of yours told his father about me?" 

"Not a friend anymore," said Ingrid darkly.

"His father…? Count Gloucester?" Raphael paused, the gears clearly turning in his brain. Then he smacked a fist into his palm. "Oh! Is this about Ignatz's crush on Lorenz?" 

All three of the others stared at Raphael. He was right, but no one was expecting, least of all Ignatz, that he would come out and say it. 

Raphael stared at them staring at him. "What? I thought it was obvious. I can tell when my buddy has a crush. Hey, Ignatz, remember when -" 

Ignatz hastily interrupted whatever that anecdote was going to be. "You're right, I - I do, um. Like Lorenz." Goddess, this was mortifying. He hurriedly added, "But I haven't told him so I don't see why the Count would care."

"Wait," said Sylvain, "Didn't you? But I thought he totally turned you down!" 

"That's what Sylvain said happened in his story," added Ingrid. 

Ignatz wondered if that was why Ingrid had very awkwardly asked if he wanted a hug the other day. "No, I still haven't said anything to him. I wasn't going to."

"That's weird," said Sylvain, frowning. 

"Why not?" asked Raphael at the same time.

Ignatz looked at his best friend. "Raphael, his father is already trying to get me out of the picture based on a rumor."

"That has nothing to do with Lorenz."

"It's not that simple," said Ingrid. "He's a noble. And he listens to his father."

"Yeah, but," Raphael rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't get it. If Lorenz's dad heard about Sylvain thinking Lorenz dumped Ignatz, wouldn't he think it was already over?"

All of them went silent. Sylvain mouthed what Raphael said silently as he tapped his fingers against his leg. "He has a point. Problem should be solved. What's got daddy Lorenz all on a rampage?" 

Ignatz tried to think back. "He said… he said he hoped I could paint Lorenz's wedding portrait."

"Now that's just mean."

Ingrid looked thoughtful. "Did he say when the wedding was?" 

"No," said Ignatz. "I thought he meant, um, in general. In the future."

"As someone who has almost been married off _several_ times by now - I wouldn't count on it."

"He's probably trying to get Lorenz married off while he's here," said Sylvain. "Hah, maybe it'll be you, Ingrid. Lorenz is rich enough for your dowry, and you're a noble with a Crest."

She glared at him. "Try to be more sensitive."

Ignatz's insides squirmed at the thought. 

"You should talk to Lorenz," Raphael said to him, ignoring the other two as they started to get heated. 

"What?" 

"You should talk to him and get him to tell his father to back off."

"It's just a crush," said Ignatz, trying to be patient. 

"Sure, but you said his dad was taking you home. But you don't want to go home, right?" 

Ingrid and Sylvain stopped bickering in the background for a moment. 

"Oh…" 

"That's right, I forgot."

Ignatz hadn't forgotten. He explained the conversation he had with Count Gloucester from the beginning, as best as he could remember. He didn't really have much hide now. 

"I'll… I need to think about it."

All three of them immediately clamoured that he should stay, though Raphael added that if he went back so would he. Ingrid took a cue from that and told him that if he wanted to get out of the war it was his choice to take it. Sylvain told him that he shouldn't just do it because the Count pushed him around, and then turned out to be just as creative with his insults as he was with his compliments. They continued like this for a while, but all of them made it clear that it was up to him.

Ignatz realized something, in that moment. His own father never gave him a choice in anything. His family never told him he didn't have to follow whatever his father decided was best. Maybe he didn't truly want to be a knight, and maybe the Count could convince his father otherwise. But it still wouldn't be his choice. 

He thought about his friends, the professor and even Lysithea and Flayn and the prince and the others, and Lorenz, and how all of them respected his ability to make his own decisions. He was no longer lonely here. They were just as much his family as the one back home, and, honestly, the ones he preferred. He was a good archer, he could help them come out of the war alive, and then he would figure out what to do with his life from there. And Lorenz… 

"I'm… I'm not going to let him - no, I'm not going to let our fathers pick my future for me."

Raphael clapped him on the back so hard that his glasses almost fell off. "That's the spirit, buddy!" 

Ingrid nodded, though she did look concerned. "What are you going to do?" 

Ignatz readjusted his glasses. "I… I think Raphael's right. I need to talk to Lorenz. But I hope that I can without _his excellency_ around." He had a feeling that the Count would not want them to be alone together.

Sylvain grinned. "Let me help. And before you're all _don't trouble yourself_ , remember that I messed up bad. Let me make it up to you."

He did have a point. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

During Count Gloucester's stay, Lorenz tried to watch his father, which was made easier by the fact that the Count hardly left Lorenz out of his sight. He wasn't constantly by his side, of course, but if he was in the gardens his father would be 'just passing through' and if he was in the entrance hall, his father would be there too at the other end. No matter where he went, his father was a constant. 

Lorenz spent a lot of time speaking to Dorothea, Mercedes, Annette, Lysithea, Flayn, and even Catherine. He avoided Ingrid, as that would actually be a fairly decent match and he didn't want his father to jump on it. He wasn't really focused on courting the women he knew; it felt strange to do so now that it would be forced. But if his father was watching him then he would make it seem like he was. 

"You're twitching, Lorenz." Lysithea was less than impressed. "Just ignore him."

Lorenz had been glancing across the Cathedral where his father was 'examining the wreckage'. He pulled his eyes back to her. 

"Is it so obvious?" 

"Yes." Lysithea was a blunt one. "Are you going to tell me why he's gotten you so twitchy?" 

"I'm not sure you would understand."

She bristled. "I wasn't a child back in school and I'm not one now -" 

He hurriedly shook his head and held up a hand. "No, forgive me. I merely meant that you want what's best for your parents. You always sound so fond of them."

She relaxed, but did not relent. "That may be true, but I am perfectly aware that other familial relationships are more… complicated." 

Someone new entered the cathedral as they spoke, and to Lorenz's surprise it was Professor Hanneman, who made a beeline to the Count. Odd. 

Shortly after, Sylvain entered, looking simultaneously very casual and very smug. "Lorenz, great, heard you were here. And Lysithea, what a pleasant surprise!" 

Lysithea eyed him with distrust. "What do _you_ want?" 

"As much as I'd love to be your knight in shining armor and rescue you from a dreadful conversation with Lorenz, I'm actually here to save him from his dad. So I guess I'm killing two birds with one stone."

Lorenz raised his eyebrows. "Pardon…?" 

Sylvain clapped his hands, though quietly. "Chop, chop! Do you know how long Professor Hanneman can talk about Crests for? He's going to be keeping your dad busy for a while, asking him _all_ about the Crest of Gloucester. I had to promise to give a blood sample to make him agree to stall as long as possible, even if they have to compare monocles, so you better make this worth it."

Lorenz could do nothing at the moment but blink at him in confusion. "What?" 

"You know," said Lysithea, "I don't really like to talk about Crests, but I would like to learn more about that one in particular." She smiled. "And in the meantime, I'm sure I can extend the conversation even longer."

"You're so smart and clever," said Sylvain, "And so quick on the uptake. If dear old daddy asks after his precious son, tell him we're doing what we do best: picking up girls." 

Lysithea crossed her arms. "I'm not doing this if that's actually what you're dragging him off for."

"Nah, this is me doing a favor for Ignatz."

"Ignatz?" said Lorenz, focusing in on that immediately. "He wants to speak with me?" 

"Yeah, and he really doesn't want to talk to your dad again."

That was a bone-chilling word. _Again_. "Lead me there."

They thanked Lysithea as she went to join Hanneman and the Count, and Sylvain pulled Lorenz away from the cathedral and all the way back to the old Golden Deer classroom, where Ignatz was reading a book. The painting he had done of Lorenz was on the table beside him. It was a clever location; nobody used the classrooms at all anymore, and his father would have no reason to check there. 

Sylvain gently pushed Lorenz in, said, "Special delivery!" winked and shut the door behind him as he left, leaving them alone. 

Ignatz looked up from his book, his cheeks going a bit pink. He pushed up his glasses. "Lorenz, I'm sorry for the trouble."

"Actually," said Lorenz, "I'm rather impressed." He sat down next to Ignatz, with the painting in front of him. "Is it dry now? Is that what you wanted, to give it to me?" 

"Yes, I… I did, but I could have done that in front of your father." Ignatz's voice shifted into that polite dislike it took on whenever the subject came up. "He's already seen it."

This information after Sylvain's comment was not surprising but it was anxiety inducing. "He would have to have visited you."

Ignatz nodded, looking down at the table. "I'm so sorry, Lorenz. It's my fault he's here."

Oh no. Did he tell Ignatz about…? Lorenz's heart was thudding in his chest. "You always blame yourself for things that are not your doing."

Ignatz shook his head. "He. Um. He told me he's to fetch me home. He said he talked to my father."

"What? That is none of his concern!"

Lorenz had expected the Count was here to drag him home. He never expected his father to go after Ignatz. But it made a sick sort of sense, in retrospect. Separate the two of them, let Lorenz keep the glory of war, ship off the commoner and ensure that Lorenz was promised off to someone else in the meantime. And Lorenz did think his father was going to send the Prince troops anyway, so it all wrapped up neat and tidy.

Lorenz couldn't let Ignatz think this whole thing was on his shoulders. "But do not think that he is here entirely for that. He rarely does anything for one reason." He took a breath. "He's also made it very clear he is here to see me engaged to be married - one way or another."

Ignatz put a hand on Lorenz's arm, and looked somehow even more regretful. "Lorenz, I'm so sorry -" 

"So you see, it's hardly your fault."

"But -" 

Lorenz put a hand on Ignatz's, trying to be comforting. His fingers tingled at the touch. "I insist, you mustn't blame yourself. His real reason for being here is for my marriage prospects."

"But he's only doing that because he found out how much I like you!" 

Ignatz went red, pulling his hands away to cover his mouth and then his face. "Oh, that wasn't how I meant to… I… I messed that up."

Oh. Lorenz's heart was beating even faster, and he knew his face was matching Ignatz's. He had spent so much energy refusing to consider the possibility that Ignatz could have feelings for him in return that he hadn't even thought about what would happen if he _did_. 

Even now, with all that, and finding out like this, he still felt so happy to hear it. He felt full enough to burst. It was the second time in so many days that he wanted to kiss Ignatz, but he had to restrain himself. 

Carefully, gently, he pulled Ignatz's hands from his face and held them. "I thought he found out how much I like _you_." He was trying to be smooth but his voice broke.

"Oh," said Ignatz. "Oh! You - oh, you do?" 

Every particle of his being was saying _kiss the boy, Lorenz_. But he held back. He couldn't. A kiss was a promise he couldn't keep. 

"Yes, I do. And nothing makes me happier than hearing you like me in return, but…" 

Ignatz's hands were still warm in his. They hadn't been pulled away. 

"You're a noble. Your father…" Ignatz's face, which had lit up, fell.

"Ignatz, I - I don't know what I want. I do like you, and I wish things were different, but I need more time." He could tell he was breaking Ignatz's heart, not to mention his own. "And my father clearly wishes to interfere with my life. But even then, that does not give him the right to interfere with yours."

Ignatz squeezed his hands. "I understand. I'm not asking you to give up your life for me, that would be unfair."

Lorenz swallowed. He really was too good for him anyway. "It would be just as unfair to ask you to wait for me to decide."

"I could, though." Ignatz bit his lip. "What if... what if we took it slow? We could take our time and figure out if this is what we really want. We don't have to rush things."

Hope fluttered in Lorenz's chest, but it was quelled by a thought. "We don't have time, my father is making very sure of that."

Ignatz paused, looking between his eyes. "So… we push back. We don't let him decide."

"Yes, but I am not certain how to accomplish that."

Ignatz looked away, considering it, before looking back. "He comes at things sideways, right? He hides the truth and makes it so that even when you _know_ he did something, you can't prove it."

For someone who barely knew his father, Ignatz had a fairly good take on him. "Plausible deniability is his forte."

"He _needs_ it."

Lorenz was starting to get it. "As long as he can control what it _looks_ like he's doing, he can work towards what he's _actually_ doing." 

"So if everything was suddenly out in the open -" 

"If he did not have a facade to hide behind -" Lorenz could see the beginnings of an idea, but it was risky. "You do realize what you're saying, however?" 

Ignatz nodded. He didn't seem like he wanted to agree, but there was a spark of determination in his eyes. "We don't keep this a secret. We tell _everyone_. Then if he tries to ship me off or get you married, he won't be able to pretend he's doing anything else." He hesitated. "Would that be fine for you? The nobility - "

Lorenz considered it. His father would rage. But what about the others? He couldn't speak for whether or not any of them had similar issues exactly, but... Dimitri had gone feral for years. Sylvain appeared to already be on board. He doubted Lysithea would care. Ferdinand and Felix, well, perhaps they could relate to disagreeing with one's father. He ran through the nobles in the army in his head with many of the same conclusions. Outside of the monastery... it could go over differently. But here, here he had sanctuary. He did not want to be seen as failing as a noble, but when he looked into Ignatz's eyes it was harder to care.

"My biggest fear was that my father would find out. That is no longer an issue. As for the rest of them, it doesn't matter. So talk about me as much as you wish. Talk to them endlessly."

Ignatz laughed a little. "That seems like it would be annoying for everyone else, though."

"Surely you must be joking. Who doesn't love a good scandal?"

* * *

Gossip was just as good at holding up the Monastery as the walls were. Considering the state of some of the walls, they may have even been better. 

Lorenz retracted his insistence that Dorothea not tell a single soul, and in fact inverted his request. Ignatz released Ingrid, Sylvain and Raphael from secrecy and let them know the plan.

By the end of the day it had spread faster than a plague. Lorenz was right; scandals were very much appreciated. Everyone wanted a diversion from the horrors of war, and (as the story soon became) a tragically doomed love between a noble and a commoner, separated by gender and class, with the stiff and disproving father trying to separate them? It was delightfully distracting. Dorothea joked that there would be an opera about it in a few years. She even sung a couple bars of the theoretical intro. 

Count Gloucester was fuming. Lorenz could guess at what position his father was in. Lorenz could hardly court a woman if every single one was talking about him and Ignatz. In fact, every time he talked to one they barraged him with questions, though so did everyone else, to be fair. And if the Count tried to arrange a marriage for him, everyone knew. The noble families who disproved of such a relationship would not want to be associated with such a scandal, and Lorenz hoped that the ones who didn't care would feel the Count had handled it poorly.

As for taking Ignatz home with him, Byleth and Dimitri (to his surprise) had made it very clear that they would be willing to argue the point with their relics if need be. The Professor in particular seemed very ready to believe it would end in a battle, as if every family problem ended in a battle.

Lorenz's reputation may forever have a mark on it, and it could cause problems in the future, but he accepted that. His belief in the people he had chosen to fight with was validated. He was grateful he had switched sides. More than that, he knew exactly who his friends were and which ones were prepared to back him up.

Plus, it was very freeing to be able to wax poetic on Ignatz as much as he wanted. He was doing so to Annette and Mercedes, who were claiming they should have known all along, when a hand was lightly placed on his shoulder.

"If you will excuse us, ladies, I would have a word with my son."

Lorenz had been expecting and dreading this moment. "Yes, please excuse us."

Mercedes and Annette's giggles subsided at the interruption of Count Gloucester, and they exchanged nervous looks. 

His father led him to the room he had been given, and to Lorenz's surprise he saw that tea had been set up. He sniffed the air. Rose petal blend. His favorite. An apology? More likely an attempt at pacification.

"Join me, won't you?"

Despite his father's casual tone, Lorenz knew it was an order. He sat down. He was poured a cup of tea. He sipped it in silence. The moment dragged on for an eternity, and there was a weight in his stomach that would not lift.

Finally, the Count sighed. "It is a father's job to make things easier for his child. But that does not mean the child has to make things more difficult for their father."

Lorenz put his cup back in the saucer. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"When one plays the fool, one is the fool."

Lorenz met his father's glare. "Perhaps for once in our lives, we should speak plainly."

His father stared at him, tapping the table. "Very well. Are you happy that you've ruined your future, embarrassed me, and tainted the name of House Gloucester?" 

Lorenz winced despite himself. "I made the move I felt was the best solution for the problem you were causing me."

His father leaned forward slightly, but for him that may as well have been slamming the table. "I was solving _your_ problem, boy! I had everything worked out for you!" 

"You told me I had to get engaged!" 

"Yes! You went and trotted off away from the Empire without so much as my leave just because some son of a merchant with big brown eyes asked you to. You think I wasn't told about that? You think I couldn't have guessed?" 

Lorenz's pulse quickened. "It was none of your concern."

"Of course it was my concern! You went off to the Academy excitedly talking about how you would find a wife there, and when you came back you spent five years not saying a word about it. Soon after you return to this crumbling place you start claiming that you have to wait until the end of the war. Clearly you had found someone I would not approve of."

Lorenz didn't know how to respond. He knew he had to play things safe, but he had been watched even more closely than he imagined. His father was actually paying attention to his behavior and his words, even if it felt that he didn't actually understand Lorenz at all. Or did he? Did Lorenz have feelings for Ignatz that had been affecting him for longer than he thought? Or was his father wildly misinterpreting the facts but managing to reach the right conclusion anyway? Either way, it did not make him feel loved, it made him feel trapped. 

The Count continued. "Then when I finally hear word about it again, it's a long report about the two of you finishing with the fact that you rejected the boy -" 

"What?" 

"If even _I_ heard about it, that meant you couldn't even keep your little indiscretion _secret_. Or perhaps you finally realized what it looked like and made a show of pushing him away in a poor attempt to avoid attention. But I know you, boy. You think we're here to serve the commoners and not the other way around. You have such antiquated ideas of honor, I don't even know where you picked those up from."

"What are you…" Lorenz wasn't sure if he liked when his father stripped away the pretense after all. "What are you trying to say?" 

"Lorenz," said his father, putting a hand on his son's cheek. "I love you, but you're so naïve. No one would have _cared_ if you bedded the merchant boy as long as you kept _quiet_ about it."

Lorenz pushed the hand away, goosebumps rising up on his arms. "Father!" 

"If you truly had turned him down, then you did it because you felt it was the honorable thing to do."

Between the shock and not wanting to correct him, Lorenz was at a loss for words. 

"Don't you see? What if he convinced you to change your mind? He had already shown himself capable of making you make hasty decisions." 

Lorenz had been right about one thing. His father had not taken his defection without permission well. Even if he was flattering the Prince now, he clearly blamed Ignatz for Lorenz's choice. As if Lorenz was incapable of making a mature decision that differed from his own. 

His father kept talking. "The solution was obvious but you weren't taking it. So I would. I was going to pack up your pet away where he wouldn't be able to influence you anymore. I encouraged you to find a _proper_ wife in the meantime. Then if you did want your pet back, he'd be there ready for you after you made yourself an heir."

His father took a drink of tea as Lorenz watched him with horror. Fury followed, fire filling him as he processed what he just heard. "Don't call Ignatz a pet."

The Count sighed. "Your little artist _friend_ , then. He really is talented. Taking him on as your official painter would have been perfect. It would even come with a convenient excuse to be alone. You had _every opportunity_ to be discreet! Having yourself painted in the cathedral at Garreg Mach? Letting rumors spread? You may as well have published a pamphlet and sent it directly to me."

"People are not toys to be used." Lorenz's tea cup was clattering against the saucer with how much he was shaking. "I never imagined that you could be so _crude_." 

"You were the one who asked that we speak plainly, boy," said the Count. "Complaining when I do so is unseemly. You're a man now, don't blush at bedroom talk."

His father was mistaken. He had already gotten through a conversation with Sylvain earlier that had used far dirtier euphemisms than his father that still made Lorenz blush. It had already crossed his mind, though It wasn't exactly the kind of thing he wanted to hear from from his _father_. No, what truly got under his skin was that it was obvious his father couldn't seem to conceive of Ignatz as anything other than trying to seduce him or as some kind of _plaything_. He was convinced that Ignatz should be used, not treated as an equal. _That_ made Lorenz's skin crawl.

Did he sound like that, when he spoke of commoners? Would he become such a person if he followed in his father's footsteps, to reduce people to their uses? To prioritize his own wants over the lives of others? That was not what he believed in, nor how he wished to act. He would have to change his ways, even if it was too late for his father.

"You've had such 'indiscretions' yourself, haven't you?" 

"I don't share your _tastes_ personally," said Count Gloucester far more casually than Lorenz would have liked. "But your mother has not been the only woman to share my bed." 

"Ugh," said Lorenz, making a face.

"Don't be rude."

"You've made your position clear, father," said Lorenz, raising his chin. "You were working on faulty information and your thoughts on what I _should_ have done are, unfortunately, something I'll never be able to forget now. But I have changed the situation. I will not accept your so-called solution. I am not going to hide who I am. I am going to stay in this army, I am going to make my own decisions on marriage, and you will accept that."

His father's mouth pursed. "No, you will listen to what I have to say."

"Oh? What will you do if I don't?" It was a bluff Lorenz was afraid to make. There were plenty of things his father could do. 

Count Gloucester's mouth twisted. 

It was too late to back down. Go on the offensive, not the defensive. Lorenz pressed on, putting down the cup of tea. "I could renounce my nobility, if you prefer."

His father blanched. "Don't be absurd."

"Even if you disprove of me, you still want me to inherit, don't you?" That was good to know. No secret illegitimate half-siblings to worry about, if that were the case. It gave Lorenz leverage. "Allow me to clarify something. When I said I would not be ready to marry until the war was over, it was not because of Ignatz. It was a choice to put aside the future I desired so I could survive the present in order to see it. We are going to march to Fhirdiad, and I do not want to be distracted by your petty attempts to control me. Would you prefer I die in this war? Or would you allow me to fight to live for what I want?"

His father's eyes flashed. "Do you expect me to believe you won't take advantage of your situation and refuse to come back to reason after the end of this war?"

Lorenz paused. He was right, he had no desire to come crawling back to his father with the war as a deadline. "No, that season has passed. I may have once, before you were so hasty. I want you to understand how badly you miscalculated in this matter."

"A matter of a nobody," said the Count dismissively.

"He is not a nobody. He is a better man than you are," Lorenz said, if only for his own satisfaction. "You have shown you will no longer respect my choices. Until you do, I will not acknowledge yours."

His father sniffed. "You'll come to your senses eventually, boy. I will be waiting for your apology then."

It wasn't a 'you're right', but it was something. "So, I am not to be married off?" 

"I will grant you that. To do so now would be to acknowledge that this is anything more than youthful wilfulness."

Not doing anything sent a message that his father didn't think - or rather, didn't want other people to think this situation was worth validating. Lorenz realized that he no longer cared if his father approved or disapproved. He was going to do what he wished regardless.

He bowed. "Thank you for the tea."

Lorenz opened the door to leave only to come face to face with Byleth, holding the Sword of the Creator in both hands, ready to throw down. 

There was a pause before the professor said, "I was told no one had seen you since your father pulled you away. I came to provide aid."

"I thank you, but that's not necessary, Professor."

"..."

"Please put the sword down, Professor."


End file.
